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ANTHROPOLOGICAL PAPERS 



OF THE 



American Museum of Natural 
History. 



Vol. iV, Part I. 



THE ASSINIBOINE 



BY 

ROBERT H. LOWIE. 



NEW YORK: 

Published by Order of the Trustees. 

November, 1909. 



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PUBLICATIONS IN ANTHROPOLOGY. 



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ANTHROPOLOGICAL PAPERS 



OF THE 



American riuseum of Natural 
History. 



Vol. IV, Part I. 



THE ASSINIBOINE 



BY 

ROBERT H. LOWIE. 



NEW YORK: 

Published by Order of the Trustees. 

November, 1909. 



Monofffapii 



^ 



ANTHROPOLOGICAL PAPERS 

OF THE 

American Museum of Natural History 

Vol. IV, Part I. 



THE ASSIXIBOIXE. 

By Robert H. Lowie. 

CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTION .... 
I. ETHNOLOGY .... 

History 

Materi.\l Culture . 

Hunting .... 

Food .... 

Industries 

Dwellings .... 

Transportation . 

Dress and Personal Decoration 
Amusements .... 
Art ..... 

Decorative Art . 

Music .... 

War 

Social Organization and Customs 

Social Organization . 

Terms of Relationship 

Natal Observances 

Names 

Menstruation 

Marriage . 

Death 

Berdaches . 
Religious Life 

Shamanism 

Individual Revelations 

Ghosts 

Sacred Pipe 



Page . 
5 
7 
7 
10 
10 
12 
12 
14 
15 
15 
17 
19 
19 
26 
2S 
33 
33 
36 
38 
38 
39 
39 
41 
42 
42 
42 
47 
50 
51 



Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 



White Buffaloes 

Sweat-lodge 

Ceremonial Buffalo Chase 

Miscellaneous Beliefs and Customs 
Ceremonial Organization 

Horse Dance .... 

Sun Dance .... 

Fool Dance .... 

Grass Dance 

Other Dances . . . . 
The Age Societies of the Plains Indians 

II. MYTHOLOGY 

Comparative 

Trickster Cycle .... 
Miscellaneous Tales ... 

1. Teze'xnin .... 

2. The Poor Boy . 

3. The Orphan Brother and Sister 

4. The Deserted Children 

5. The Two Brothers . 

6. The Undergrounil Journey 

7. Potiphar .... 

8. The Son-in-law's Tests 

9. The Evil Parents-in-law 

10. Adventures of Two Boys . 

11. The Lecherous Sister 

12. The Witch 

13. The Faeces as Suitor . 

14. The Giants 

15. The Old Husband and the Young Lover 

16. Lodge-Boy and Thrown- Away 's Father 

17. The Thunder-Bird . 

18. The Women who married Stars 

19. Ball-Girl . 

20. Morning-Star . 

21. The Seven Stars 

22. The Dipper 

23. The Bear- Woman 

24. Burr- Woman 

25. The Snake-Man . 

26. The Awl-Elbow Witches 

27. The Comrades' Pranks 

28. Sharpened-Leg 

29. The Magic Springs 

30. The Buffaloes' Ward . 

31. The Buffalo-Boy 

32. The Grizzly and his Ward 

33. The Grateful Bear . 

34. The Young Bear 



51 

52 

52 

55 

56 

57 

58 

62 

66 

70 

75 

99 

99 

100 

134 

134 

138 

139 

142 

145 

147 

150 

154 

157 

159 

160 

162 

162 

164 

166 

168 

169 

171 

174 

176 

177 

177 

179 

180 

181 

183 

184 

186 

187 

187 

189 

190 

191 

191 



1909.] 



Loicie, The Assiniboine. 



35. The Bear-Wife 

■36. Snake and Bear- Woman . 

37. The Beaver-Man 

38. The Piqued Buffalo-Wife . 

39. The Wolf-Wife .... 

40. The Antelope- Woman 

41. The Red Hawk and the Black Hawk 

42. Frog 

43. The Crane and the Otter . 

44. Wis^kedidin' .... 

45. The Loon and the Bald-headed Eagle 

46. The Wolverene and the Wolves 

47. Skunk 

48. The Blind Dupe 

49. The False Comrade 

50. The Waka»' Girl 

51. The Bad Wife . 

52. The Woman Stolen by the Buffalo 

53. The Abducted Wife 

54. The Reformed Adulteress 

55. The Game-Thief 

56. The Meeting in a Cave 

57. The Gambling Contests 

58. Lesbian Love 

59. Equus Stuprator 

60. Canis Stuprator 

61. Lignum Mentulae Vice Fungens 

62. The Two Hunters 

63. The Goose and her Lover . 

64. Mentula Loquens 

65. The Punished Lover's Revenge 

66. Big-Frog . . • • 

67. The Badger 

68. A Hunting Adventure 

69. The Horse-Thief 

70. The White Buffalo . 

71. The Four Trappers . 

72. The Rivals 

73. The Bear and the Buffalo . 

74. Snow . • ■ • 

75. The Offended Feet . 

76. Two-Faces 

77. First Meeting with the Cree 

78. First Meeting with Whites 

79. The Punitive Expedition . 

80. War Tales 
ABSTRACTS OF MYTHS 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

APPENDIX 



Anthropological Papers American Museum uf Natural lli'stonj. [Vol. IV, 



Stoney Texts . 
AssiNiBoiNE Texts 



263 
265 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



I. Woman Wringing a Skin. 
II. Dog Tiavois 

Assiniboine Conple. 
III. Fool-Dancers 



Plates. 



Text Figures. 



1. Horn Spoon .... 

2. A.s.siniboine Warrior (.\fter Maxim 

3. Cup-and-ball Game 

4. Armlet ..... 

5. Mocca.sin Decoration 

6. Moccasin Decoration 

7. Parfleche Decoration 

8. Decoration of a St^iey Tambourii: 

9. Naval Amulet. Bag 

10. Bag 

11. Designs on a Drum . 

12. Saddle Ornament 

13. Assiniboine Warrior (After Maxim 

14. Bag for War-Medicine 

15. Fool-Dance Mask 

16. Fool-Dance Mask, Front . 

17. Fool-Dance Mask. Back . 



ilian) 



ilian) 



Page 
13 
16 
19 
20 
21 
22 
23 
24 
25 
26 
27 
28 
29 
32 
65 
66 
66 



INTRODUCTION. 

In the summer of 1907 I spent about seven weeks among the Stoney 
Assiniboine of ^Nlorley, Alberta, as part of a ]Museum expedition to the 
Northern Plains. Though very much of the ancient life had become com- 
pletely effaced under the influence of missionary teaching, I was able to 
collect a reasonably large body of mythological material. On my return 
from a trip to the Chipewyan in the following year, it was deemed advisable 
to spend the month of August among the Assiniboine at Ft. Belknap, Mon- 
tana, in order to enlarge the inadecjuate conception of Assiniboine ethnology 
obtained from their Canadiaii kinsmen. Beyond ascertaining the essential 
similarity of the folk-lore of the two sections, relatively little attention was 
given to mythology in 1908, the main object being to secure notes on social 
and ceremonial organization. To these is prefixed a necessarily brief 
account of the history and material culture of the tribe, largely reconstructed 
from the records of older writers. While a longer stay would have helped 
to fill up many lacunae, especially in the treatment of games, of the sun- 
dance and the horse-dance, it is hoi)ed that even the imperfect account here 
given will be useful as a contribution to the comparative study of the North- 
ern Plains Indians. 

The values of letters employed to render Assiniboine sounds are given 
in the following table: 

a, e, i, o, u the continental vowels 

a^ e^ i^ o^ 1^1 whispered final vowels ' 

n nasalization of vowel 

E obscvu'e vowel 

c English .s7/ 

j French j in jour 

tc English ell in r/nirch 

dj English j in judr/e 

X German eh in arhf 

d A medial, not English d - 



1 Observed only at Ft. Belknap. 

- n takes the place of the Santee d: at Morley, however, I believe I heard the true sonant 
in ade', father. 



6 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Histort/. [\'o\. IV, 

J. related to g 

t' 1^' explosives 

lY guttural 71. 

I am not certain whether or not there are medials corresponding to tc-dj, 
c-j, k-g. As for the labials, I am rather inclined to doubt the occurrence of 
the surd than of the medial; in such words as il'bi, ksd'ba, there is certainly 
a substitution of the sonant for the Santee surd. 

Robert H. Lowie. 
New York, 

November, 1909. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 



I. ETHNOLOGY. 



History. 

Linguistically, the Assiniboine form a member of the Dakota branch 
of the Siouan stock. They are mentioned as a distinct tril>e with the Winne- 
bago, Sioux, Illinois and Potawatomi in the Jesuit Relation for 1640,^ and 
are said by other authorities to have originated from the Wazi-kute (Pine- 
Shooter) band of the Yanktonai. The Dakota name for them is given as 
Hoha or Hohe; they call themselves Nako'ta,^ while at Ft. Belknap the 
generic term Sioux (in its popular acceptation) is translated Iha'^'k-to^wa". 
The traditional reason for their separation from the Dakota is, according to 
De Smet, a quarrel between two women over the apportionment of a buffalo.^ 
The unhistorical character of this tale is proved by the occurrence of identical 
traditions among neighboring tribes.* Keating's informants alleged family 
feuds arising from the seduction of a woman as the cause of the schism.^ 
In the middle of the seventeenth century the Assiniboine seem to have 
inhabited the neighborhood of the Lake of the Woods and Lake Nipigon. 
Thence they moved northwest towards Lake Winnipeg, where they came 
in contact with the Cree, and continued their westward migration as far as 
the Assiniboine and Saskatchewan rivers. De Smet's "Assiniboine of the 
Forest" are even said to have roamed about the sources of the Saskatche- 
wan and the Athabaska and to have been seldom seen on the plains.^ 
Divisions of the tribe were met by the older and the younger Henry, Lewis 
and Clark, Franklin, Long, and Maximilian. The younger Henry defines 
the Assiniboine country as beginning at the Hair Hills, near Red River, 
running west along the Assiniboine, from there to the junction of the 
northern and southern branches of the Saskatchewan, up the former 
branch to Ft. Vermilion, then extending due south to Battle River and 
southeast to the Missouri, down the Missouri almost as far as the ^Nlundan 
villages, and ultimately back to the Hair Hills again.'^ 

Since their separation from the Dakota, the Assiniboine have been most 
intimately connected with the Cree. The two tribes are constantly men- 

1 Jesuit Relations, Vol. 18, p. 230. 

2 The Stoneys also like to call themselves Hopa'-maksa (Head-cutters). 

3 De Smet, p. 1142. 

* The same story was told to the writer among the Crow to account for their separation 
from the Hidatsa. Cf. Matthews, p. 39. 

5 Keating, p. 388-389. Clark, p. 51. 

6 De Smet, p. 509. 

7 Coues, p. 516. 



8 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

tioned together in some of the earlier literature/ and the Canadian Stoneys, 
at all events, have adopted some cultural features from the Cree and are 
frequently able to converse in, or at least to understand, the Cree language. 
Of course, the relations of the two tribes were not uniformly amicable, as is 
shown by Assiniboine war-traditions. The westernmost Stoneys sometimes 
crossed the mountains to fight the Shuswap and Kootenay. At the time of 
Lewis and Clark's expedition, the Assiniboine were in close contact with 
the village tribes of the ^Missouri, and horse-raids fretjuently occasioned local 
disturbances.^ They were also frequently at war with the Dakota, Crow 
and Blackfoot.^ In 1823, Renville estimated the number of Assiniboine at 
2S000 (7000 warriors, 3000 lodges), — making it nearly ecjual to that of all 
the other members of the Dakota group combined.* Less extravagant 
estimates of the same period give figures varying from SOOO to 10000. Heavy 
losses were undoubtedly sustainetl during the smallpox epidemic of 183G, 
though the percentage of those who perished is uncertain. The Assiniboine 
now within the United States live on the reservations at Ft. Belknap and Ft. 
Peck. Their principal location in Canada is the Stoney reserve, ^Nlorley, 
Alberta; smaller l)ands are sprinkled over various other reservations (shared 
with the Cree) in Alberta and Saskatchewan. The total number both 
north and south of the forty-ninth parallel is placed by Curtis at 2090, 1217 
in the United States and 873 in Canada.^ 

The statement has been repeatedly made that the Assiniboine probably 
separated from the Dakota only a short period before their discovery by the 
whites. The sole basis for this theory is the similarity of Assiniboine to the 
other Dakota dialects. Thus Riggs says: "Their language differs less from 
the Dakota in general, than the dialects of the Dakota do from each other."** 
This statement obviously expresses the author's conviction of an extremely 
slight dialectic variation of Assiniboine from the Dakota norm. For the 
detection of such differences as exist, it would be manifestly preferable to 
compare Assiniboine with Yanktonai, but as there are not, to my knowledge, 
any published texts in this dialect, it will be necessary to make the compari- 
son with Yankton. Before undertaking this task, however, it is necessary 
to point out that the speech of the Stoneys of Alberta is by no means identical 
with that of the Montana Assiniboine. Irrespective of the slight infiltration 



1 E. g., ibid., pp. 132, 152, 203, 244, 250, 570. 

- Lewis and Clark, I, pp. 241, 269, 271; V, p. 329. 

3 Besides the sources already quoted, the following may be consulted with regard to Assini- 
boine liLstory, liabitat, and tribal relationships:— Riggs, pp. 160, 164, 188; Handbook, pp. 
102-104; Hayden, pp. 379-391; Margry, I, p. 97, VI, pp. 19, 21, 22, 51, 82, 496, 517, 568, 610; 
Jesuit Relations, Vol. 44, pp. 246-249, Vol. 54, p. 193, Vol. 66, pp. 107-111, Vol. 68, p. 293. 

•* Keating, I, 380. 

5 Curtis, III, p. 1.33. 

•5 Riggs, p. 188. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 9 

of Cree words into the speech of the Canadian branch, more serious differ- 
ences are revealed even by the cursory Unguistic notes taken by the writer, as 
may be ilkistrated by the texts in the Appendix. 

While it is obvious from these texts that the differences between Stoney 
and Assiniboine are slight, their existence is indubitable and is confirmed by 
some additional material. It appears that the invariable cjuotative particle 
of the Stoneys is -hemic (-hanc), while among the Assiniboine it is -Jni^cta 
(hucfa). The customary connective of Stoney sentences is etci'n, the Assini- 
boine form is je'fcen. Both branches avoid a liare predicative statement, 
but the oral period of the Stoneys is -fr, that of the Assiniboine -?io. Thus, 
the Stoneys say, muda'-lia-ic, I shall drink; yazu'ni-ic, she was sick; gisni'- 
tc, she is well. Assiniboine forms showing the corresponding period are: 
miye' wagl'aica ade'-wcti/c-no, I have the Thunder-bird for my father; 
miici' -kte-ktc-no, I shall kill myself; ad'kbaza-no, it is dark.^ The Stoneys 
substitute /" for Dakota //", we; thus, i^lde'hi, we kill; ifigu'hitc, we come; 
inge'haga^-hitc, they laugh at us; i"mha'his, let us gather. There are Stoney 
words not used by (though partly known to) the Assiniboine. Thus, the 
Stoney word for "bear," oji'nja is recognized only as a distinctively Stoney 
term at Ft. Belknap; the Montana equivalent for patci'din or umpa', elk, 
is xexa'ga; the sun-dance is called waJiiamha icagl'djibi at ^Nlorley, and 
ico'tijax at Ft. Belknap; the Assiniboine term for "seven" is iyu'cna, while 
the Stoneys use a slight variation of the Dakota form, cago'wi'^. Phoneti- 
cally, I never observed the whisjiering of final vowels at ^lorley, though this 
phenomenon was familiar to me from having heard Shoshone. At Ft. 
Belknap, I noticed this repeatedly, e. g., rkto"'m\ ade'n"-, ('HP'''9^^- Here I 
also recorded a tendency less fretjuently observed in Alberta, viz., to obscure 
or omit g between two vowels, e. g. e'agu, he takes; tio'ba, door. On the 
other hand, an obscure vowel separating Assiniboine consonants is some- 
times ignored in Stoney; e. g., ya'niEni, ya'mni, three. The Stoney equiva- 
lent for Dakota g in the word imna'gl I did not analyze accurately, but 
never once recorded a trill, while I find r repeatedly in my Ft. Belknap notes. 

So far as I am aware, the only Yankton material jiublished is one text 
printed in Riggs's grammar." Comparison of this text with the material in 
the Appendix reveals certain phonetic differences. For the surd p in the 
plural ending both Assiniboine divisions employ the sonant, e. g., kocka'-hi 
instead of kockapi. Corresponding substitutions of medials or sonants are 
made for k and /, e. g., dailga great; o'da, many.^ Riggs's d (the English d) 

1 It is, of course, probable that Stoney tc and Assiniboine tio correspond, each to one of the 
two forms, tee (ce) and ye do, employed in Yankton. 

"■ Riggs, pp. 105-108. 

3 I have a suspicion that several of the surds in the texts would, on closer analysis, turn out 
to be medials. 



10 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

seems to be regularly superseded by n in both dialects, e. g., Icona' , friend; 
ne, this; one', he seeks; hia'-hii'hia, he went home, it is said. A noteworthy 
point of difference is the apparent absence of both the definite and the in- 
definite article, the place of the latter being taken by the numeral waji'^' and 
of the former — when expressed — by presumably demonstrative forms. 
The sentence-connective 7/"A-a"', which appears regularly in Riggs's tale does 
not seem to occur in the Assiniboine dialects,^ neither does the conjunction 
h\i appear in my notes. In Dakota, ({notations are regularly marked off" 
by the initial expression lieya' and a final eya' . In Stoney, the introductory 
cpiotative seems to be lacking; in Assiniboine there is usually a prefatory 
jedjl'a or cea', ijea'), and both divisions employ a final edjia' or eya' {ea'). 
All the differences noted, both between the two sub-dialects and between 
Assiniboine-Stoney taken as a unit and Yankton, may seem minute. Never- 
theless, in estimating their significance, it should be remembered that all the 
linguistic notes taken were obtained incidentally and that only a single 
Canadian reservation was visited; it is readily conceivable that an investi- 
gation of the Stoney spoken at I^ake St. Anne, near Edmonton, or in the 
province of Saskatchewan, would yield additional deviations of a sub-dialectic 
character. That the Assiniboine have developed, since their secession from 
the Dakota, at least two sub-dialects," certainly seems to indicate that their 
separation from the Yanktonai does not date from yesterday. At the same 
time the question raised by Powell,-' whether the speech of the Assiniboine 
represents a distinct language of the Siouan stock, must be answered nega- 
tively, as the dialectic variations do not transcend the limits of mutual in- 
telligibility. Before, however, we possess some data on the Yanktonai dialect 
and on the approximate rate of linguistic differentiation among the Dakota 
generally, it would be vain to fix, even tentatively, the time of the separation. 

Material Culture. 

Hunting. Buffalo were either hunted by the whole tribe in the great 
ceremonial chase (wana'sabi), or, like other game, by small parties and 
single hunters (wata'pabi). In the tribal chase, the herd was either sur- 
rounded by the hunters, or driven into a large pen (u"xpa'jaxa) constructed 
with the aid of the entire community. The latter method was especially 
characteristic of the Assiniboine. At the foot, or on the declivity, of rising 

1 I believe I once heard it in the narrative of one of my informants, but it does not occur 
in any of my recorded texts. 

2 These are recognized as such by the two groups in question. Before a recent govern- 
mental prohibition, visits from Morley to Ft. Belknap and vice versa were not infrequent. 

3 "Xote by the Director," prefacing Riggs's A Dakota-ErwHsh Dictionary, p. VH. 



1909.] Louie, The Assiniboine. \\ 

land, stakes were driven into the ground to the height of about four or five 
feet, forming a circular enclosure of about an acre in area, and the interven- 
ing spaces were filled up with logs, dry boughs and rocks. Small openings 
were left to allow dogs to feed upon the abandoned carcasses of the bulls. 
P'rom the sides of the entrance two barriers diverged up the inclined plane 
and were extended for a considerable distance. In the centre of the pen 
there was planted a medicine-pole with charms suspended from it.^ After 
the favorable report of scouts sent out by the medicine-man in charge of the 
hunt to reconnoitre the country for bison herds, foot soldiers hid along the 
oblique lines walling the passage to the pen, or continued them by spreading 
at distances of from ten to fifteen feet from the extremities of the fences. 
The two lines were further prolonged by mounted men, or, if necessary, by 
women and children, until the farthest guard was about two or three miles 
from the pen, and nearly as far from the corresponding member of the other 
line. One, or more men disguised in a buffalo robe and wearing buftalo 
horn headdresses were next dispatched to approach the herd of buffalo, 
and, by imitating the cry of a calf,- to decoy them into the funnel-shaped 
passage. As soon as the bison had passed them, the horsemen cut off the 
retreat in the rear, and drove the animals towards the circular enclosure. 
The decoyer rushed into the pen and out at the other side by an opening left 
for that purpose. The buffalo followed, sometimes breaking their legs 
in jumping in, as the descent might be six or eight feet and stumps were left 
standing there. Those uninjured began to circle around inside. If any 
attempted to run out, skins were shaken at the entrance to scare them back. 
Only if some managed to make their escape, were guns fired; otherwise, 
the ensnared bison were dispatched with arrows. In the hunt witnessed 
by De Smet six hundred bison were captured in this way. 

As to the apportionment of the buffalo killed in a tribal hunt, accounts 
vary. According to the older Henry,^ all the tongues were presented to the 
chief, and together with the hearts and shoulder-lumps were stowed away 
for feasts. De Smet * states that the skins and meat were divided among the 
families in proportion to their size. According to one of my informants, 
the drivers were entitled to the fattest animals. According to the younger 
Henry, each man identified his game by the property mark on his arrow, 
while the master of the pound divided the animals, giving each tent an equal 

1 Cf. the story of the Waka-"' Girl, p. 206. The account in the text is based partly on field- 
notes, but principally on De Smet's (pp. 1027-1032), the older Henry's (p. 295 f.) and the younger 
Henry's (Coues, pp. 518-520) descriptions. Franklin (pp. 100-101) describes a Cree buffalo- 
pound. 

2 This mode of luring the game, was, of course, not restricted to the time of the tribal 
hunt. De Smet, p. 658. 

3 Henry, p. 295. 

* De Smet, p. 1031. 



12 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Nistory. [Vol. IV, 

share without reserving any for himself. Everyone was, however, oblicred 
to send him a certain portion, as the ceremonies of the chase were performed 
in his lodge. ^ 

Food. While the meat of large game formed the principal food, vegetable 
products, such as the pomme hlanchc, were also sought. In early historical 
times, the Assiniboine seem to have gathered wild rice (fausse avoine)? 
The porcupine is said to have been largely depended on by the Assiniboine 
of the Forest, and, in case of necessity, pulverized insects dried in the sun, 
roots, seeds, and the inner bark of the cypress served to eke out their fare.'^ 
The northern Stoneys are also said to have partly subsisted on fish.^ 

When men were on the warpath, they dug a circular excavation, which 
was lined with a skin pegged to the bottom of the pit. Holes were cut along 
the rim of the hide, and stakes were run through them. Then water and 
meat were put in, while other men heated rocks. First a rock with a raw- 
hide loop around it was used to stir the water, then red-hot stones were 
dropped in until the food was boiled.^ The women are said never to have 
employed this method of cooking; with them, the normal method of prepara- 
tion was to roast meat on a spit planted obliquely over the fire. Wlien 
necessary, the food was spread out by means of horizontal pins. Some- 
times it was thrown directly on the embers. Earthen vessels were formerly 
made and used, but, according to a Ft. Belknap authority, only by men. 
The food was served on plates, carved by either sex, of box-elder or willow 
wood. A kind of soup was prepared by boiling the blood of an animal 
together with berries. Another kind of pottage is described by De Smet. 
"They commence by rubbing their hands with grease, and collecting in 
them the blood of the animal, which they boil with water; finally, they fill 
the kettle with fat and hashed meat. But — hashed with the teeth. Often 
half a dozen old women are occupied in this mincing operation for hours; 
mouthful after mouthful is masticated, and thus passes from the mouth into 
the cauldron."'' Horn spoons (Fig. 1) were used for dipping up soup. 

In the winter, water was sometimes obtained by hanging a buffalo paunch 
filled with snow in the smoke of a fire. The melted snow was drawn off 
by removing a ])lug stopping the lower opening of the vessel.^ In the olden 
days, birchbark (ta^ba') receptacles were employed. 

Indu.sirics. Woodwork was confined to the fashioning of bows, arrows, 



1 Coues, p. 520. For tlie ceremonial side of the buffalo hunt, see p. 52. 

- Jesuit Relations. Vol. 54 (1669-70), p. 19.3. 

3 De Smet, p. 511. 

■• Maclean, p. 25. 

= Cf. Catlin, I, p. 54. 

•i De Smet, p. 511. 

'' Henry, p. 291. 



1909.] Loicie, The Assiniboine. |3 

bowls, etc. Earthen pots (manka'-tcex) were once used, and pii)c-l)()\vls 
were sometimes manufactured of clay. Some of the pipes had red pipe- 
stone bowls with stems about four feet in length. In Montana, at all 
events, a black stone or clay l)owl seems to have been common.^ Of the 
pipes of the Canadian division, Sir Daniel Wilson writes:- "Among the 
Assiniboine Indians a material is used in pipe manufacture altogether 
peculiar to them. It is a fine marble, much too hard to admit of minute 
carving, but taking a high polish. This is cut into pipes of graceful form, 
and made so extremely thin as to be nearly transparent, so that when lighted 
the glowing tobacco shines through, and presents a singular appearance 
when in use at night or in a dark lodge. Another favorite material emploved 
by the Assiniboine Indians is a coarse species of jasper, also too hard to 
admit of elaborate ornamentation. This is also cut into various simple, 
but tasteful designs, executed chiefly by the slow and laborious process of 
rubbing it down with other stones. The choice of the material for fashion- 




Fig. 1. (50-2007). Horn Spoon. Length, 30 cm. 

ing the favorite pipe is by no means invariably guided by the facilities which 
the location of the tribe affords. A suitable stone for such a i)urpose will be 
picked up and carried himdreds of miles. jNIr. Kane informs me that in 
coming down {sic) the Athabasca River, when drawing near its source in 
the Rocky Mountains, he observed his Assiniboine guides select the favorite 
bluish jasper from among the water-worn stones in the bed of the river to 
carry home for the purpose of pipe manufacture, although they were then 
fully five hundred miles from their lodges." 

The preparation of skins persists to the present day. In dressing a skm, 
a woman first removes the flesh with a flat stone or bone. Both sides are 
rubbed with grease and heated over a fire. The brains and liver of an 
animal, which have been preserved with sage-brush leaves, are boiled, set 
aside to cool, mashed, and spread over the skin, which is then folded up 
and left overnight in some damp place. The next morning the skin is 

1 Henry, p. 284-285. Maximilian, I, p. 444. 

2 Quoted by Maclean, pp. 25-26. 



14 Anthropological Papers American Musemn of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

spread for examination, and dipped in water for another night. TJie fol- 
lowing morning it is wrung out (Plate i). When wrenched dry, it is hung 
up, head topmost. The fleshy side is once more scraped with a rock or 
bone, then a sinew is attached in a horizontal position, and the hide is laid 
across and pulled back and forth. A final smoothing with rough bones or 
stones completes this part of the process. For smoking, the skin is sewed up, 
and the lower end is pegged down around a smouldering fire until tanned to 
the desired shade. 

Dwellings. The woman who wished to put up a new lodge invited her 
assistants to a feast, and was obliged to give liberal compensation to the 
cutter of the tent-cover. The Assiniboine employ the following technical 
terms in connection with the erection of a lodge. 

0'zipaM)i pitching a lodge. 

wi^^gaxpa'bi taking down a lodge. 

tocu' lodge-pole. 

tocii'd'* door-post (one of the first three poles). 

wi'^'imbah^ poles regulating the smoke- vent. 

wi" lodge-cover. 

wi"'I^mbusp® peg. 

wi'"cinafik^ door-pins. 

wi"i"'djack the loop passing around the pegs. 

wi"in'djack ini"'axpe the cover of the top of the pole bearing the wi". 

inti'tcidjack the cord used to tie the poles together. 

tocii' momox'nok the holes in the ground for inserting the poles. 

tio'ba the door. 

tio'ba-tca^ke the part of the cover stepped over in entering. 

wi^hu'd^ the lower edge of the lodge-cover. 

wixu'ba the cover-flaps. 

wixu'ba oga'xpihieje the part flapped back on the top of the wi^'imbah^. 

winsi'tc. ■ four triangular patches of buffalo skin in the lodge-cover. 

tucu'daxga the part of the lodge bounded on one side by a door-post, 

on the other by the nearest pole. 

tcatka' the rear of the lodge. 

ti'agasa(m) either side of the lodge flanking the tcatku'. 

tice' the smoke-hole. 

According to Lewis and Clark,i the Assiniboine tie together four poles 
in erecting their lodges. This, however, does not accord with the result of 
repeated inquiries both at Morley and at Ft. Belknap. The Assiniboine 
and Stoney lodge is nowadays certainly erected on a three-pole foundation.- 
The two tcatku' poles are laid on the ground parallel to each other and then 



1 Lewis and Clark, I, p. 310. 

2 This also seems to be the Teton style. Curtis (III, p. 24) speaks of four poles being 
fastened together, but his plate (p. 104) shows a three-pole foundation. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 15 

on top of the tocu'd^. The three poles are raised witli the left hand, one end 
of the cord is thrown over the tocu'd'^ and the two rear poles, then the strino- 
passes below the latter, comes up on the right side of the door-post, and 
crosses again as before until finally tied. In a model tipi, the knot was at the 
right of the tocu'd^ for one seated in the tcatku'. In erecting this lodge, the 
woman observed the following order. The fourth pole was placed left of the 
tocQ'd^^, forming the second door-post. The fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth and 
ninth poles followed in sinistral order. The tenth pole was placed at the 
right of the tocOVl^, and the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth followed in 
dextral order. The fourteenth pole, that is, the sixth pole to the right of the 
tocu'da, the tocu'd^ being counted as the first, leaned outside against the two 
original tcatku' poles. The cord was then wrapjjed around all the poles 
except the last, and attached to a peg driven into the ground near the center 
of the lodge. Finally, the fifteenth pole was inserted between the tcatku' 
posts, and served for the attachment of the cover. All the poles were of 
pine-wood. 

The iVssiniboine of Ft. Belknap used backrests similar to those in use 
among other Plains tribes. The Stoney form, however, deviates from the 
ordinary type. Six willow sticks, about four feet in length, have their tops 
tied together and resting against a lodge-pole, while the diverging butt-ends 
are planted on the ground. The larger part of this simple frame is co\ered 
with a skin, against which the inmate of the lodge leans his back. The 
lodges are floored with spruce needles. Several layers of these support the 
bedding. 

Transportation. Each family had from six to twelve dogs, which could 
carry from thirty to fifty pounds apiece. The frame of the Assiniboine dog- 
travois was circular (Plate ii).' Both from their own accounts and those 
of early travelers,^ the Assiniboine do not appear to have had as many horses 
as other Plains tribes. Rivers were crossed in bull-boats.^ 

Dress and Personal Decoration. The ancient dress of the Assiniboine 
does not seem to have possessed any distinctive features; older writers 
point out its similarity to that of the Plains tribes and the Cree. The men 
wore round, white wolf-skin caps, feathers, or a skin band for headgear. 
Winter shirts were decorated with a rosette in the front and back^ (Fig. 2), 
while the sleeves were adorned with human hair. A modern gala shirt is 
shown in Plate ii. The outer seam of the leggings had an embroidered 

1 The younger Henry also mentions a hoop, not a square, frame. (Coues, 518). Cf. 
MaximiUan's Atlas, flg. XVI. Franklin, speaking of a hand of Cree in immediate contact with 
the Assiniboine, also mentions the hoop-travois (p. 100). 

~ Maximilian, I, p. 443. De Smet, p. 1027 

3 Humfreville, p. 220. 

4 Vid. p. 25. 



|() Anthropolojical Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 




Fig. 2. Assiniboine Warrior (After Maximilian). 



1909.] Loivie, The Assinihoine. 17 

stripe of colored quills trimmed with human or horsehair. It is interesting 
to note that my informants remember an older type of unsoled moccasin, ap- 
parently resembling the form once common to the Blackfoot and Shoshone.' 
A pair of Cree cut was seen at ]\Iorley. The women's dress was of 
mountain-goat skin and ornamented with porcupine c[uills and elk teeth. 
The lower edge of their garments was decorated with bells and deer-hoofs. 
INIarried women allowed their hair to grow at random and even to hang over 
their eyes. The men sometimes wore their hair very long, sometimes splic- 
ing together several lengths. Some tied it behind in a thick queue and 
cut it short in front; others wore it short, having it scarcely hanging down 
the shoulders. Ear-beads and bear-claw necklaces were common. The 
eyes were surrounded by daubings of white clay. The rest of the face was 
painted red or reddish-brown, and blackened to indicate the killing of an 
enemy. The hair was often smeared with clay in front. Two parallel 
black stripes were tattooed from the neck down the breast. A Jesuit ac- 
count speaks of lines pricked on the bodies of the natives with pointed 
bones and filled with charcoal, representing serpents, birds, and various 
other beings. The Stoneys speak of a whitish stone, be'ndjada^^in, being 
once used for looking-glasses. Fans were of eagle feathers.- 



Amusements. 

The following games were enumerated by a middle-aged Assiniboine: 
1. Ha'^be'tcumbino, the hand-game. This game has been recently 
revived by the Ft. Belknap people, and is played by a society, generally on 
Friday evenings. The buttons are two pairs of bones, or pieces of cherry- 
'wood. Instead of indicating the guesses with the fingers, the players use a 
ceremonial wand, from one to one and a half feet long, which is trimmed 
with feathers, wrapped with otter-skin, and has an attachment of bells. 
From seven to twelve tally-sticks are employed. Before the game, the owner 
of the pointer gives a feast to his fellow-members. Admission to the society 
is free, and both men and women may join. There are four players at a 
time, men ahernating with, but apparently never pitted against, women. It 
is a rule of the game that all spectators within the lodge must take turns at 
playing. If I had attended a game, a member assured me, I should have been 
obliged to play. He was emphatic in stating that there was no gambling in 
the modern form of the game. The evening is concluded with a dance, in 



1 The writer saw an old Blackfoot moccasin of this tj^pe at Gleichen, Alberta. 

2 On the clothing and decoration of the Assiniboine, see Henry, p. 306: Catlin, I, pp. 55, 
57; Maximilian, I, pp. 441-442; Jesuit Relations. \oL 66, p. 107. 



18 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xatural History. [\o\. IV, 

■which the performers either move in a circle, or hft their feet witliout change 
of place. The set of objects used for the game is wrapped up in a bundle, 
and is not exposed on ordinary occasions. As played to-day, this game seems 
to be a simplified form of the modern Arapaho (but apparently not Gros 
Ventre) guessing-game.^ 

2. Ihe'dja kude'bin°, arrow-shooting. 

3. Ha'mba u"s etcu'mbin°, the moccasin-game. 

4. Ka"su' etcu'nibin°, the wooden-plate game.'- The claws of animals, 
fruit-seeds, or four brass pins, each marked to indicate the value of a throw, 
are cast as dice (ka"su') from a wooden plate (ka"su'-yoga'pt')). 

5. Mage' etcn'mbin^, the hoop-game. "They have a hoop about two 
feet in diameter, nearly covered with dressed leather, and trimmed with 
cjuill-work, feathers, bits of metal, and other trinkets, on which are certain 
particular marks. Two persons play at the same time, by rolling the hoop 
and accompanying it, one on each side; when it is about to fall, each gently 
throws one arrow in such manner that the hooj) may fall upon them; and 
according to that mark on the hoop wliich rests upon the arrows, they reckon 
the game." ^ 

6. Tapga'psidjab', the women's ball-game. The women drive a ball 
(tab) with a crooked stick. 

7. Hu'^'pe etcu'mbin", the wooden-pin game. Two pins are driven 
into the ground about four inches apart, and wooden pins are rolled between 
them. 

8. Ta"wi"'yu"cna"\ the "seven" stick game. Forty-one peeled sticks 
are shaken together by one player, and divided into two moieties. The 
opponent is to guess which hand contains a decimal number of sticks (ten, 
twenty, thirty, or forty). This is apparently a form of the game described 
by Henry. "They have another game which requires 40 to 50 small sticks, 
as thick as a goose-quill and about a foot long; these are all shuffled 
together, and then divided into two bunches, and according to the even or 
odd numbers of sticks in the bunch chosen, the players lose or win."^ 

9. I^'ya"^ etcu'mbin", the rock-game. This game was played on the ice. 
Two holes were dug out on either side, and in front of them a mark was made, 
at which rocks were aimed. The side that threw rocks into both of the 
opponents' pits won. 

10. Tasi'hu^ etcu'mbin°, the cup-and-ball game. Dried antelope ankle- 

1 Kroeber, (a), pp. 368-382; (b), p. 186. 
- Also mentioned by Coues, p. 522. 

3 Coues, p. .521-522. 

4 Coues, p. 522. Maximilian, I, p. 455, mentions a game, also found among the Black- 
foot, m which one player conceals some small stones in his hand, of which his opponent must 
guess the number, or pay a forfeit. 



1909. 



Lowie, The Assiniboine. 



19 



bones are strung on a cord, to the lower end of which there is attached 
a triangular or quadrangular piece of buckskin with one large central and 
numerous smaller perforations (Fig. 3). The usual number of bones is 
seven. If the player should happen to catch the 
lowest bone on his pin, he wins the game irre- 
spective of his opponent's score. In a specimen 
not figured, the six bones above the lowest are 
colored blue. 

11. Ca'^kni'he, the four-stick dice-game. 

Cat's cradle (ilain ^) is played at Morley, 
where I saw both the "two-star"" and other 
figures. The boys had also picked up the 
European form of the game, one player alternately 
relieving the other. At Ft. Belknap the game is 
also known. 

Formerly, stories were generally told in the 
evening. An old man would begin his tale. As 
some of the inmates of his lodge fell asleep, he 
occasionally paused in his narrative, waiting for 
his audience to give him a sign to continue. If 
he could not finish the story in the course of a 
single evening, he would, before re-commencing 
on the following night, ask, "What was my last 
word ?" If no one recollected it, he would refuse 
to proceed. 



Art. 



Decorative Art. The objective aspect of 
Assiniboine decorative art has been recently dealt 
Avith by Professor Kroeber, ^ whose conclusions, 
based largely on the same material as that acces- 
sible to the present writer, may be summarized as 
follows. There is a close relationship between the 
art of the Sioux and that of the Assiniboine. 
In ((uill and bead embroidery, both employ a 
considerable number of designs shared by other tribes, but they are 



i.O 



Fig. 3 (50-7118). ■ Cup- 
and-ball Game. Length, 33 
cm. 



1 Thus the word stands in my field-notes, but the I is suspicious, 
record the corresponding term at Ft. Belknap. 

2 Jayne, Caroline F., pp. 129-130. 

3 Kroeber, (b), pp. 153, 155, 158, 160-161, 167. 



Unfortunately I did not 



20 



Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. 1\, 



distinguished by the decidedly more frequent use of the square (box), 
cross and "feather" patterns, the last of these 
being a lozenge formed by two differently colored 
acute-angled triangles. Some of the less charac- 
teristic elements, found on a Stoney armlet, are 
shown in Fig. 4.^ Moccasin decoration, being to 
a certain extent dependent on the form of the 
decorated object, receives special treatment in 
Kroeber's paper. In this province of their art, 
Sioux and Assiniboine fail to reveal individuality 
of style, practically every type of design found in 
the Northern Plains area being rejjresented on 
their moccasins. 

The diversity of Assiniboine moccasin deco- 
ration may be best demonstrated by a series of 
concrete examples. Fig. 5 B illustrates the first 
of Kroeber's three principal types; disregarding 
the subordinate elements, we find a longitudinal 
stripe tapering towards the instep and perpendicu- 
lar to a transverse bar tipped at either extremity 
with a feather-design. A modification of the 
second type is seen in Fig. 6 A: save for the 
border, the entire decorative field is covered with 
a single geometric pattern, — parallel quill-bands, 
partly blue and partly yellowish-red. Kroeber's 
third type, being defined by a purely negative 
characteristic — lack of correlation between a 
central figure and the outline of the decorative field 
— constitutes, of course, merely a conventional group, within which inde- 
finite variation may be expected. Some of the more common patterns — 
the angle-across, the tent, and the bird designs — are shown in Figs. 5 A, 
5G and 6B, respectively; an Assiniboine circle-design, with subsidiary 
elements, has already been illustrated in a Museum publication.^ In Fig. 
5D eleven feather-designs radiate from a very small central circle. A 
rectangular cross stands out boldly from the front of a child's moccasin 
(Fig. 6 C), and is repeated on the sides in the rear. Another pair (Fig. 6 E) 
shows a similar disposition of the triplicate decorative unit, which is identical 




Fig. 4 (50-6814). Armlet. 
Length, 32 cm. 



1 In the Illustrations, colors are represented as follows: greenish light blue, by diagonal 
shadmg; dark blue, by heavier diagonal shading; light blue, by broken diagonal shading- 
green, by horizontal shading; red, by vertical shading; brownish-red, by cross-hatching; 
yellow, by dotting. The drawings were made by Miss Ruth B Howe 

1 Wissler, (a), Plate LII, Fig. 1. 



1909. 



Lowie, The Assiniboine. 



21 




Fig. 5 a (50-6S94a), 6 (50-7120 a), c'(50-4331a), (/ (50-1953a), e (50-6S16a),/ (50-6808 b), 
' (50-1954 b). Moccasin Decoration. 



22 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 




D E 

Fig. 6 a (50-1986), I (50-1969), c (50-4336). d (50-2017), e(50-1955b). 



Moccasin Decoration. 



1909. 



Lowie, The Assiniboine. 



23 



with the pronged design commonly found on beadwork of the Prairie 
Indians. In Fig. 5 C the stepped triangle of the Blackfoot is found balanc- 
ing three feather designs on a horizontal bar. An obli(|uely set rectangle 
with two divergent feather-designs extending from each corner is seen in 
Fig. 6D. Additional variants are illustrated in Figs. 5E and 5F. 

The Assiniboine parfleches at my disposal are too few to permit any 





in i|llii ini iiiiiii n il l l . l l l l lllllliii N iiiioniji i ,, . 




77Z^ 




lI 'millm i l ll lM iniiiiii nii,..|iiiiillllllllllMllllllllhmiTTTr 



Fig. 7 a (50-1971), ?)"(50-1982), c (50-2000), d (50-1S19). Parfleche Decoration. 



general description. Each of the four specimens in Fig. 7 represents a 
distinct style of ornamentation. The parfleche i)ictured in Fig. 7C has 
a rectangular field bisected by a longitudinal stripe enclosing three hour- 
glass figures, one above the other, while the two panels are decorated with 
symmetrical tipi designs; the frame of the rectangle is decorated with a 
continuous ziffzas; line. Fig. "A also .shows a framed rectangle bisected 



24 



Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 



bv a long-itudinal stripe, but each of the resulting panels is painted with a 
central lozenge flanked above and below by an isosceles triangle. The third 
parileche (Fig. 7 B) offers a trapezoidal decorative surface. The frame is 
marked with oblique lateral stripes; above and below there are three tri- 
angles in a row. The inner trapezoid contains a central diamond with 




isosceles processes above and below 
and flanked by hourglass designs on 
the sides. All these figures have 
partly curved outlines; this feature 
is, however, far more strongly ac- 
centuated in the central figure than 
in the hourglass designs. The 
single Stoney specimen secured (Fig. 
7D) represents a wholly aberrant 
style. A framed rectangular area 
is divided by a fairly wide stripe 
into two symmetrically decorated 
panels. ^Yithin each of these, an 
otherwise unmarked quasi-elliptical 
area encloses a central lozenge^ 
with numerous small isosceles triangles along the edges. The symbolism 
of this figure and of the subsidiary designs is discussed below. 

Though I did not see any painted robes or lodges, I still found a few 
attempts at realistic representation. Of the tambourine (Fig. 8) one side 
is painted with the dark-blue figure of a lizard, while the other shows the 
picture of a woman executed in the same color. 




Fig. 8 (50-6811). Decoration of a Stoney 
Tambourine. Diameter, 18 cm. 



iThe illustration incorrectly represents this lozenge as homologous with the enclosing 
figure. 



1909.] 



Loicie, The Assiniboine. 



25 



While nowadays both the Stoneys and the Assiniboine proper prothice 
designs for decorative effects exchisively, there is still a lingering meniory 
of symbolical interpretations. Fig. 9 B shows a small beaded bag, the 
whole representing a turtle, of which the ventral side is illustrated. The 
explanation given recalls the navel amulets of the Dakota, which, however, 
are far more realistic representations of the animal.^ On the dorsal side, 
two very irregularly triangular designs, placed as symmetrical counterparts 
one above the other, stand for a small animal (ant?). The circle former] v 
used to ornament robes was said to have been interpreted as a shield, the 
rays representing the feathers; the circle on Sioux shirts stood for the netted 
hoop.- A quill rosette with a tassel of human hair on the cover of a lodge 





Fig. 9a (50-1997), b (50-6815). Navel Amulet. Length, 31 cm. Bag. Length, 10 cm. 

indicated that the owner had slain an enemy. Other interpretations con- 
nected with martial achievements are described in connection with the grass- 
dance (p. 67). On a drum, isosceles triangles Avere interpreted as tipis; on 
a hat they stood for mountains. On a parfleche (Fig. 7D) the quasi- 
realistic figure is a hope'pe (a kind of fish) ; the red and blue curves above 
and below it are rainbow symbols and the small, white triangles are knives. 
On a moccasin bearing the beaded circle-design, the quadrangular figure 
with the circle was interpreted as a war-club, and three triangles with 
points touching the circle and bases facing the toe were said to represent 
feathers.^ A moccasin decoration consisting of a vertical line joining two 



1 Wissler, (a), p. 241. 

- Rosettes on Assiniboine garments are pictured in Maximilian's Atlas, Tab. 12, 32. A 
reproduction of Tab. 12 is given in Fig. 2. 

3 For a different interpretation of a similar Assiniboine design, as well as of other Assini- 
boine moccasin patterns, see Wissler, (a), p. 254. 



26 



Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\\)\. IV, 



symmetrical isosceles triangles was said to look like a heart. Fig. 10 shows 
a' pouch with seven small blue squares, forming the L)ii)i)c-r. Color sym- 
bolism seems to have been well developed among the Stoneys. ( )n a drum 
(Fig. 11), the gray central ring is itself a drum, the concentric rings arc 
rainbow symbols, and the four sets of slanting lines (yellow, black, whitish) 
represent the sunshine. The green color between these lines denotes clouds, 

the four following rings the rainbow, and 
the external red ring has no ascertainable 
meaning. On the other side, there is a 
star in the center, the black circle stands for 
night, the blue color at the circumference 
for twilight, and the oblique red, yellow and 
white lines for the sunshine. On one side 
of another drum a yellow circle is exi)lained 
as the moon, a concentric dark-blue ring as 
the night, and a brown one as the sunrise. 
The interpretation of colored areas on a 
drum used in the grass-dance is given else- 
where. The red crescent above the woman 
on the tambourine (Fig. 8 B) symbolizes the 
rainbow. On a saddle ornament (Fig. 12), 
the outermost light-blue ring symbolizes the 
moon, and the sextet of lozenge pairs 
enclosed by it, the sunshine. The red circle in the center, representing fire, 
is surrounded by a light-blue ring symbolizing the sunrise, while the radiat- 
ing triangles stand for the morning star. The remaining areas of the 
circular section remain uninterpreted, except for the yellow zone, which 
indicates the sunset. On the lower quadrangular part of the specimen, 
the background is explained as a cloudless day, the eight truncate triangles 
are arrow points, and the buckskin fringe represents clouds. 

Music. A Stoney flute seen at Morley consisted of a jointed cylindrical 
tube about 35 cm. long. The mouthpiece contained a large oblong hole, 
the central section six smaller, circular apertures, the lowest part, wdiich 
was notched at the bottom, a single circular hole. A Stoney drum and 
taml)ourine are shown in Figures 11 and 8. Both skin and deer-hoof 
rattles belong to the old orchestral equipment of the tribe, and Henry also 
mentions a notched instrument: "Another instrument was one that was no 
more than a piece of wood, of three feet, with notches cut on its edge. The 
performer drew a stick backward and forward, along the notches, keeping 
time."i 




Fig. 10. (50-6813). Bag. Length, 
1.5 cm. 



1 Henry, p. 296. A similar instrument was found by Long's expedition among the Oto and 
Iowa (.James, I, p. 140). 



1909. 



Lowie, The Assiniboine. 



27 




Fig. 11 (50-6809). Designs on a Diuui. Diameter, 50 cm. 



28 



Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 



War. 



The weapons of the Assiniboine consisted of the bow, spear, and pogga- 
moggan. The quiver was usually of otter skin and terminated in a tail 
pendant. The bow was partly covered with elk horn, wrapped with sinew, 
and was often adorned with colored cloth, porcupine quills and white strips 

of ermine. The poggamoggan con- 
sisted of a stone weighing about two 
pounds which was sewed in leather 
and fastened to a wooden handle 
about two feet long. The stone 
was whirled round the handle; to 
l)revent the weapon from slipping 
out of the hand, a wrist-loop was 
attached to the handle.^ Maxi- 
milian's Atlas figures an Assini- 
boine warrior holding a bow-spear 
(Tab. 82, ])artly reproduced in Fig. 
13), but this weapon is explained 
to have had a purely ornamental 
function. 

A man would not offer to lead a 
war party, vmless he had had a 
dream to that effect. He might 
dream that he was killing several 
enemies in a certain country with 
the loss of, say only one man on 
his own side. In such a case, the 
dreamer would summon other 
young men and announce his 
dream. If they agreed to go with 
him, they got ready to start. On 
the way to the site indicated they 
stopped four times, the leader (awa'^'k'ai^a) singing at each halting-place. 
On the fourth spot they went to sleep. There the captain generally had 
another dream in confirmation of the first one, and the next day he 
announced to his followers when the enemy would be met. Everything 
happened as foretold; the party might lose one or two men, but usually 
defeated the enemy, and returned victorious. 




Fig. 12 (50-6S10). 
Length, 27 cm. 



Saddle Ornament. 



1 Maximilian, I, p. 442. Henry, p. 298. 



1909.1 



Lowie, The Assiniboine. 



29 




Fig. 13. Assiniboine Warrior (After Maximilian). 



30 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

There were two war-dances properly so called. In the o'wi"x watci'bi 
(circle-dance), only women, dressed in their best garments and with black- 
ened faces, took part. They built a fire, and danced around it in a circle. 
There was no display of scalps or spoils, but the songs all cck-brated warlike 
deeds. After the dance, a party of men often gathered and marched to the 
chief's lodge. There a song eulogizing his deeds was siuig. 'i'he chief, 
appreciating the honor, would step outside, and give the singers one of his 
horses. The party then continued to go around the camp, repeating the 
performance at the lodge of other prominent men. This custom (wakte' no'- 
wa u'mbi = they have killed, they are coming to sing) recalls the Dakota 
begging-dances. 

The practices connected with the scal})-dance (wakte' watci'bi) were 
essentially different. If men were returning from a victorious raid and felt 
sure of their safety, they proceeded homeward at a slow pace. As soon as 
they had sighted the camp, they sat down, built a fire, and placed the pul- 
verized charcoal into a dried buft'alo bladder. Approaching the camp, 
they hailed some fellow-tribesman who happened to be at the outskirts, 
and begged him to announce to their several fathers-in-law that each of them 
had captured a scalp. The fathers-in-law came to meet the warriors, and 
sat down. Then each man told his father-in-law about his exploits, took 
out his bladder and blackened the old man's face. Those who did not 
happen to be married were met by some other relative, apparently irrespective 
of sex. It is not c^uite clear whether the father-in-law could be accompanied 
or even superseded by his wife. The scalps were surrendered to these 
welcoming relatives. The father-in-law returned to camp, singing that he 
had received a scalp from his son-in-law. The same evening the scalper 
invited men to his lodge, entertained them, and related the story of his deeds. 
When the tale was finished, some old men went outside and announced to 
the camp that So-and-so had killed an enemy. The next day, it was de- 
cided to have a scalp-dance. In the course of the day, the victors' wives 
cooked food for the dancers. Three or four old men began to sing and 
drum. Then the warriors got ready to dance, and a large number of 
women, some of them very old, assembled. Each woman bore a shield, a 
war club, an arrow, or some other object used in slaying the enemy. They 
also carried poles, to the top of which the reddened pieces of scalp were tied. 
Then they all formed a circle around the drummers. When the drummers 
began to sing, the women approached them dancing, and then returned to 
their previous position. This was repeated with every song. During 
periods of intermission, old men rose to count their coups. The songs 
smiply declared that So-and-so had killed an enemy with a spear, or some 
other weapon. The Stoneys sang: 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 31 



Paha' 


wintca'sta 


paha' 


mu'hatc. 


Wa'gadjrhi. 


A scalp, 


an Indian 


scalp 


I have. 


Dance. 



If a man had killed an enemy and had also been the first to run \\\) and 
touch him, he received the greatest possible credit, but the three next men 
to touch the body were also entitled to count coup. If a man killed an 
enemy and was outdistanced by a fellow-tribesman in running towards the 
victim, the swifter runner took precedence.^ The first one in the race to the 
corpse would leap over the body after touching it and return to scalp, if not 
forestalled by the second runner. If only a few enemies had been killed 
altogether, the first four men would count coup by touching, and the next 
four shared the honor of scalping. A man who had killed an enemy was 
entitled to wear an eagle-feather; if he had done so repeatedly, he was per- 
mitted to add a feather for each deed. If a man had slain a foe while him- 
self bearing a shield, the shield was represented by wearing a flat circle of 
feathers "spread out like a turkey's tail-feathers." If a man had stolen a 
horse picketed outside an enemy's lodge, he had the right of painting a 
realistic representation of the exploit on his lodge-cover.- 

Shields (woha'tcanga) were painted with a picture of the sun, moon, 
thunder-bird, a buffalo head, a buffalo, or some other animal from which a 
supernatural communication had been received. The buffalo skin used for 
the disc was covered with rawhide, and the design was transferred to the 
cover. Except Avhen in use, the shield remained in a buckskin wrapping. 
Red, black and blue paint were employed in the decoration of shields. 
Ga'nEx, an informant, used to carry a shield decorated with the picture of a 
buft'alo and with crow-feather pendants. It had been made by his father 
for a younger child, but during the latter's minority the older son was per- 
mitted to use it. Shields are generally buried with their owners. 

Like the Dakota, the Assiniboine warrior carried with him his wo'tawE, 
or war-charm.^ If a man desired to obtain a wo'tawE, he resorted to a 
holy man, oftering him a horse for a fee. The shaman bade him fetch 
certain objects, prepared the charm, and predicted what would happen to 
the wearer in battle. Thus, he might announce that the owner would 
wound one or two enemies ; would be wounded himself, though not seriously ; 
or would be shot in the leg by an arrow. The wd'tawE of different men 
varied considerably. One informant used the dried and fleshed skin of a 



1 My (full-blood) interpreter was inclined to the contrary view and insisted that there was 
a difference of opinion on this point; but every old man appealed to confirmed the statement 
given in the text. Cf. Grinnell, (c), p. 248. 

- For other examples of heraldry in connection with the grass-dance, see p. 67. 

3 Riggs, p. 219 Cf. J. O. Dorsey, (b), p. 443. 



32 



Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Yo\. IV, 



blue-bird, with jack-rabbit ears sewed to its neck, the whok' attached to a 
piece of rawhide painted red on the opposite side. During a fight the iiead 
of the bird was fastened with a string to a k:)ck of the owner's hair. Another 
man had for his wo'tawE a large knife with a handle made of a bear's jawbone, 
to which were tied little bells and a feather. Several kinds of war-cliarms 




Fig. 14 (50-7117). Bag for War-Medicine. Length, 1.3 cm. and 75 cm. 

seem to have been given to members of the Horse society upon their initia- 
tion. At Ft. Belknap I obtained a bag serving as a receptacle for the 
wo'tawE (Fig. 14). It is of parabolic shape and decorated on both sides 
with a beaded border enclosing three elongated feather-patterns. Crotals 
are attached to the fringe, either singly or in pairs, and there is an otter-skin 



1909.] Lovie, The Assmiboine. 33 

shoulder-strap. Possibly some mystie virtue was believed to reside in llie 
very bag containing the wo'tawE, for after the purchase of the article my 
interpreter immediately offered to buy it of me for twice the amount paid. 
]My informants did not refer to the consecrated weapons found among the 
Dakota, nor was the acquisition of a wo'tawE connected with puberty. 

War-shirts were "dreamt," and could be disposed of by the visionary 
as he thought fit. He could prophesy what would happen to the wearer in 
battle. The origin of shirts with circle designs in front was ascribed by my 
informants to the Dakota. The Assiniboine shirts were of buckskin; 
there were small holes in them, and on the breast and back a triangular cut 
was made. Bear-claws were tied to the shoulder, and bear's ears to the 
owner's head. 'Jliis type of wo'tawE was associated with the use of a knife. 
Once a man who had dreamt to that effect donned a fool-dancer's dress 
and mask before entering a fight, and in that garb killed an enemy. 

INIirror, blanket and fire-signals were all in vogue among the Assiniboine.^ 

Social Organization and Customs. 

Social Organization. On their reservation in INIorley, All)erta, the 
Stoneys are nowadays separated into three "villages" of log-cabins for 
winter habitation, each village having its own nominal headman. Whether 
these divisions correspond to old tribal bands is not certain; these, however, 
are also said to have numbered three, viz., Ho'ke (Like-Big-Fish) ;- 
Tu-wa'^'huda^'' (Looking-like-Ghosts); and Sitco'^'ski (Tricksters; literally, 
Wrinkled-Ankles) . 

J. O. Dorsey has collatetl the lists of Assiniboine bands furnished by 
Denig, Maximilian and Hayden, respectively. •' Still another list is given 
in the journals of Alexander Henry. ^ From two informants at Ft. Belknap 
I obtained the following names, partly coinciding with those given by these 
writers. 

1. Tcan-xta'da. 

2. U"ska'ha, Roamers. 

3. Wazl'a wintca'ct^^, Northern People. 

4. Wato'paxna- o"\va'i, or Wato'paxnatu'^^. 

5. Tca'^'xe wintca'cta, People of the Woods. 

6. Tanin'ta'bin, Buffalo-Hip. 

1 Maclean, p. 27. 

2 Denig translates "Hohe," the Dakota name for the Assiniboine, as "fish-eaters." J. O. 
Dorsey, (c), p. 222. 

3 J. O. Dorsey (c), pp. 222-223. 

4 Coues, pp. 522-523. 



34 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

7. Hu'deca'bin''-, Red-Butt. 

8. Waci'az! hyabin, Fat-Smokers. 

9. Witci'abin. 

10. in'ya"to"''wa'^bin, Rock-People. 

11. Wato'pabin, Paddlers. 

12. Cuiiktce'bi, Canuni Mentulae. 

13. Cahl'a iye'skabin, Speakers of Cree (Half-Crees) . 

14. Xe'nato"wan, Mountain People. 

15. Xe'bina, Mountain People. 

16. Icna'umbis-'^, Those-who-stay-alone. 

17. Ini'na u'mbi. 

Though .several of these names are so nearly alike as to suggest that they 
refer to the same tribal division, they were, on inquiry, declared to be dis- 
tinct. The Xe'bina are at present on the Ft. Peck reservation, the Wazi'a 
wintca'cta are the Canadian Assiniboine east of Alberta, while the Stoneys 
(Te'ha'^ Nako'ta = Far-away Assiniboine) are not included in the list. 

The relative position of these bands in the camp-circle could no longer 
be ascertained, except that, according to one authority, the Witcl'al)in occu- 
pied the site immediately to the right (from the inside) of the entrance to 
the camp. Each band was said to have a dance of its own, as well as a 
dance-lodge, removed some distance from the circumference. The builder 
of the sun-dance lodge appears, from an unconfirmed statement, to have 
been a member of the Witcl'-abin. The Icna'umbis'"^, who were almost 
completely destroyed by the smallpox, owned the greatest number of painted 
lodges, and, owing to the number of their medicine-men, were considered 
the most distinguished of all bands. 

As to the inheritance of band names, conflicting statements were made 
by different individuals. While one declared that names were inherited 
in the paternal line, another thought this applied only to boys, while girls 
belonged to their mother's section. Gray-Bull stated that, inasmuch as 
his father was an I^'ya^to^'wa"^ and his mother an Ini'na u'mbi, he regarded 
himself as belonging to both sections in equal measure. Ga'nEx said that 
a boy was reckoned as a member of his father's band, a girl of her mother's; 
nevertheless, he classed himself as belonging to his mother's. It was only 
after the inconsistency of his statements had been made clear by repeated 
efforts that he corrected himself and, obviously as an afterthought, said that 
he belonged to his father's band. 

J. O. Dorsey, on Denig's authority, conceives the Assiniboine bands as 
exogamous clans.^ For this conception, I could not obtain any corrobora- 
tive testimony. Ga'nEx said he could marry a Witci'abin (the section with 



1 J. O. Dorsey (c), pp. 224, 226. 



1909.] Loicie, The Assiniboine. 35 

which he had affihated hhiiself on first thoughts), but not a Taui"'taMjin, 
because, through his father, all the women in that section were related to 
him. His wife was a Cunktce'bi. A Tca^'xe wi"tca'cta declared that both 
his parents had been members of this band. Another individual recollected 
an old chief of the I"ya"'to"wa'\ who had chosen several wives from the 
same division. Considering the foregoing statements, the apparent absence 
of exogamy among the Dakota, the ease with which the clan system, when 
present, is detected,^ the conservatism of the Ft. Belknap Assiniboine, and 
the trend of modern speculation as to the nature of the tribal unit in the 
Plains area, I am disposed to doubt the accuracy of Denig's information. 

The authority of a chief, as among most of the Plains tribes, was depend- 
ent on his personal characteristics, such as bravery, liberality, or the posses- 
sion of waka"' power." He erected his lodge in the center of the circle, and 
directed the movements of the camp. Only on the march and during the 
great tribal hunt was there a strong executive force, vested in the agi'tcita, 
or Soldiers, braves in the prime of life, who, under the direction of the chief 
superintended the camp from a large lodge (wiyo'trbi) in the center of the 
circle. This lodge corresponds closely to the Dakota tiyotipi,^ being used 
as a council-chamber and guest-house; in both cases admission was tabooed 
to women and children. In a camp of two hundred lodges there might be 
from fifty to sixty Soldiers. After a hunt, the meat was first brought to the 
wiyo'ti^bi. On the march, a detachment of the agi'tcita cleared the way 
for the dog-travois, while another section constituted the rear-guard. In case 
of danger, outposts were stationed at the extremities of the camp to prevent 
people from passing beyond the lines and falling into the hands of the enemy. 
These sentries were changed from day to day. Those who disobeyed orders, 
especially hunters who made a premature charge on the buffalo in a tribal 
chase, were beaten unmercifully, or subjected to "soldier-killing" (agi'tcita 
wo'potaM^i).* Of this disciplinary procedure I obtained the following 
account. 

At the end of the feast following a tribal hunt, if anyone has infringed 
the rules of the chase, some one asks, "Who was the first in this moiety to 
rush in pursuit of the buffalo ? " The leader of the section in question knows, 
but he will not answer in the presence of the other moiety. Then they say, 
"Let us tear him up." All start towards his lodge. One of the two over- 
seers enters the lodge, takes the owner by the hand, and leads him outside, 

1 Cf. Mooney, (c), p. 410. 

2 Cf. De Smet, pp. 1108-1140, esp. 1124-1125. 

3 Riggs, p. 200. 

* My statements are based partly on data obtained in the field, partly on the older Henry's 
narrative (pp. 291-292, 310, 309) and on the information supplied by Denig and recorded by 
De Smet (p. 1028) and J. O. Dorsey (c) (pp. 224-225). 



36 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

then re-enters, and leads out the offender's wife and children. The other 
men herd together the guilty man's horses and dogs. Then the leader savs, 
"Turn loose, and tear up his lodge." They tear up, or burn, his buffalo- 
skin cover, take down the lodge-poles, chop up his travois, and kill his dogs 
and horses. Then they depart. For four days the Soldiers wait without 
taking further action. If the criminal is angry and seeks revenge, they may 
kill him. But if he makes no show of resistance, they assemble to discuss 
his case. One man will say, " I have a good tent, I will give him my buffalo- 
skin cover." Another promises to present him with lodge-poles. A third 
offers to give him tanned robes, a fourth, a horse, and so on, until the total 
property thus aggregated may equal or exceed the culj)rit's loss. The 
Soldiers separate, gather the gifts together in one place, put u[) the lodge for 
the pardoned offender, picket the horse, tie up the dogs, and })ut pemmican 
inside the tent. Then all march towards the man's resting-place, lead him 
to the new lodge, bid him enter, and announce that everything there belongs 
to him. 

The punishment of practically every crime excei)t disobedience to the 
agi'tcita was an individual, not a tribal affair. The treatment of adulterers 
is described by De Smet. The seducer was killed, provided the offended 
husband had the power to put him to death. "The woman is sometimes 
killed, but always severely punished. The husband causes her head to be 
closely shaved, and her person painted over with a heavy coat of vermilion 
mixed with bear's grease; she is then mounted on a horse, the mane and tail 
of which have been cut oft', and the whole body also daubed with vermilion ; 
an old man conducts her all around the camp and proclaims aloud" her 
infidelity; at last he commits her to the hands of her own relatives, who 
receive the culprit with a good beating. A woman cannot be subjected to a 
more degrading punishment." ^ 

Terms of Relationship. The following terms of relationship, differing 
on the whole, only dialectically, from J. O. Dorsey's Santee list,- were re- 
corded by the writer. 

Atle' Father (vocative) ; ni-a'de, your father; atgu'g", his 

(or her) father. 

Ade'na Father's brother. 

I"''^' Mother (vocative) ; ni-hu"', your mother; hu'ng", liis 

(or her) mother. 

I'la'na Mother's sister. 

Mi-ca'nin (Stoney) " " 

Mi-ne'kci My mother's brother; nekci'dju, his mother's brother. 



1 De Smet, pp. 943-944. 

2 In Riggs, pp. XVIII, XX. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 37 

]Mi-ha"'gac My father's sister; ha"ga'citk", his father's sister. 

Mi-nu'i'gaziVi (Stoney) My mother's sister's husband; my father's brother. 

Mi-tu"'gac (Stoney: mi- 

tu'i'gacin) My grandfather; tuiiga'ngiciHk", his grandfather. 

Mi-ku'^'c My grandmother; ku'niciHku, his grandmother. 

Mi-tci'n My older brother; my father's brother's son, older than 

myself (man speaking) ; tci'ndjun, his older brother. 

Mi-ti'mnon^ My older brother (woman speaking). 

Mi-ta'ngi^ir'* .My older sister (man speaking). 

Mi-tcii'n My older sister; my husband's brother's wife (woman 

speaking). 

Mi-su"' My younger brother (man or woman speaking) ; my 

father's brother's son, younger than myself (man 
speaking) . 

]\Ii-ta'nkc' My younger .sister (man speaking). 

Mi-ta'ilg^ My younger sister, my husband's brother's wife (woman 

speaking). 
Mi-tcinkc' My son. My brother's son (man or woman speaking). 

My sister's son (woman speaking). 

Mi-tcu'ilkc' My daughter. 

Mi-ta'goja My grandchild ; ta'gojakpa^k", his grandchild. 

Mi-ta'ha" My sister's husband (man speaking). My wife's brother. 

Mi-ci'dje My brother-in-law (woman speaking). 

Mi-ha'iik (Stoney: mi- 

ha'ila) My sister-in-law (man speaking). 

Jli-ci'djepa"^ My sister-in-law (woman speaking). 

Mi-tu"ja"' My sister's or brother's daughter (man speaking). 

Mi-to'ja'^ My sister's or brother's daughter (woman speaking). 

Mi-tu"'cg My sister's son, older than myself (man speaking). 

^Ii-tu"'cgax My sister's son, younger than myself (man speaking). 

Mi-ha"'gac My father's brother's daughter (man speaking). 

Mi-ci'djec My father's brother's son (woman speaking). 

Mi-ta'gu"c My son-in-law; my daughter-in-law (man or woman 

speaking). 

Mi-tu"'g My father-in-law (man or woman speaking). 

Mi-ku"' My mother-in-law (man or woman speaking).' 

U^dji'^'c His mother-in-law. 

^li-hi'iikna My husband; hinkna'ngu, her husband. 

Mi-ta'wi'^ My wife; tawi"'tcu, his wife. 

Kitci'-miiiga^ (Stoney) . . .My spouse; kitci'nga, his or her spouse. 
Caiiku'n (Stoney) Stepmother (man speaking). 

As among the Dakota ; young men were often united in pairs as com- 
rades (kona'). The moral obligations involved in this relationship are 
well illustrated bv a tale, in which a father disowns his son for having been 



1 Owing to the mother-in-law taboo, this term was, of course, not employed by men in 
direct address. 

- Rlggs, p. 196. 



38 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

a disloyal kona', while the outraged friend is so overwhelmed with shame 
that he retires into voluntary exile. ^ 

Natal Observances. Before parturition, the husl)and must leave the 
lodge; if he remained within, the child would not be born. The mother is 
assisted by several women, one of whom cuts the umbilical cord. A mid- 
wife, regularly called in confinement cases, was })ointcd out to me at Ft. 
Belknap. Some holy gifts are placed within the lodge, but must not be 
touched until after birth. One baby-board is made beforehand, and only 
one. If two were prepared, twins would be born, and twins do not live long. 
The afterbirth is wrapped up, and put on a high tree; some people are afraid 
that if put in the ground it might be touched by some animal and the child 
would then be taken sick. When the navel-string breaks off, it is tied up 
in a buckskin bag with some tobacco and kept until the child can wear it 
in its necklace. Sometimes, in later years, if the parent was in need of 
tobacco, he might coax the child to open the navel-string bag and give up 
some of the tobacco, but coercion was never resorted to. Fig. 9 A shows 
an Assiniboine navel-ornament collected by Dr. Kroeber. 

Stoney women, when in confinement, drink the infusion of a medicinal 
root. Another root is boiled into a tea with which to wash the newborn 
infant. Sometimes a father gave away a horse on the birth of a child. 

The ears of a child were pierced soon after birth. The operation was 
not attended by any ceremony, though the Assiniboine know and described 
to me the observances of the Dakota on such occasions. 

Names. Sometimes a near relative of the infant has had a supernatural 
revelation of the name to be given to the child. If this is not the case, a 
brave man is engaged for a small comi)ensation, such as a saddle, or even 
a horse, to name the baby after one of his martial exploits. The parents 
give a feast. The godfather recites the story of some brave deed, and names 
the child accordingly. He picks up the infant, and says, "Your name is 
Spotted-Horse," then passes it to his neighbor. Each guest in turn calls the 
child "Spotted-Horse," until it is finally returned to its mother. If a spon- 
sor has stolen a horse with a horny growth behind the ear, he may baptize 
the child accordingly; if he has taken an enemy's bow, or gun, the young 
one may be called "Takes-the-bow," or "Takes-the-gun.' Girls were 
named in the same way. According to Henry, the father merely announced 
the child's name to his guests and addressed a prayer for its life and welfare." 
It was stated that names were not changed in later life, but the assumption 
of new names is mentioned by De Smet.^ I could not find anv evidence for 



' See p. 206. 

2 Henry, p. 303. 

3 De Smet, p. 1111. 



1909.] Lou'ie, The Assiniboine. 39 

the use of cardinal birth-names, such as occur among other Siouan tribes.* 
Menstruation. Formerly, when a girl menstruated for the first time, she 
notified her mother. Her parents constructed a sweat-lodge shelter covered 
with robes. Here the girl lived for four days, using her own dishes for eat- 
ing. At the close of the period, she was taken to the river to bathe. The 
clothes worn in the hut were burnt, and new garments were put on; her 
dishes were thrown away. Subsequently to this first period, it was not 
necessary for a woman to leave the lodge; indeed, one informant denied the 
existence of menstrual huts among the Assiniboine, though cognizant of the 
Sioux custom in this respect.^ He also mentioned the fact that while the 
Dakota girls employ scratching-sticks for the head during the first menses, 
the use of such a device was not known among his own people. There was 
a formal announcement of the child's attainment to puberty. x\t a girl's 
first menses, her parents and relatives collected property, called in old men, 
and divided the goods and horses among them. Then they asked the 
visitors to notify the camp that property had been distributed in honor of 
their daughter's maturity. Thus, all the people were informed. Some- 
times, a father would make the announcement some time before expecting 
the first catamenial flow. One informant took his daughter to a dance a 
year before her first menses, and gave away seven yellow-eared white horses 
and one pinto in her honor. Neither at puberty, nor during later menstrual 
periods, were any food restrictions observed, though the women ate from a 
cup and plate of their own. Two taboos are still rigorously enforced. A 
menstruating woman must not step over anyone's legs or body, and a certain 
medicine bundle ^ must not be kept in the same lodge with her. If a M'oman 
menstruates, she immediately tells her husband, who then places the bundle 
outside his tent. If she is approaching a lodge and does not know whether 
a medicine-bundle is kept inside, she pauses at the door to inform the in- 
mates of her condition, so that the medicine can be removed. It is said that 
if the bundle were not taken out, a woman would continue to menstruate 
indefinitely. 

Marriage. If a girl had no relatives, she might live with her lover with- 
out any further formality, but this was regarded as an irregular alliance. 
Sometimes a girl, thwarted in her love-affairs by her parents' objections, 
might notify her lover and arrange an elopement. The lovers would run 
away, remain at a distance for a while, and ultimately return. Her parents, 
after a long separation, rejoiced at their daughter's return, and refrained from 
upbraiding her. 



1 Riggs, p. XVI. Curtis, (III, p. 18) denies that the Teton had such names. 

2 The existence of menstrual huts is, however, referred to in one of the Stoney myths. 

3 The wo'tawE? Cf. J. O. Dorsey, (b), p. 445. 



40 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Histor)/. [Vol. IV, 

The normal procedure, however, in eontracthig matrimony was fairly 
definite. The youth proposing for a girl's hand dispatched a messenger 
with one or more horses, which were picketed near the young woman's lodge. 
The girl's brother appropriated the gift, and her mother summoned a family 
council. The female members made about a dozen moccasins and pre- 
pared a feast. At this feast the father announced, "My daughter is going 
to pay her first visit to this man. It behooves us to bring some gifts." 
Then the relatives gathered together presents, the brother of the girl 
being expected to contribute most liberally of all. The prospective fiancee 
made pemmican in the presence of all the people, and was then dressed in 
her best clothing. Her father requested an old man to escort the girl to 
the lodge. The old man led the procession, while the girl marched behind 
him and was in turn followed by her relatives, who carried the gifts. Her 
father and brothers did not go with the rest of the j)eople. ^Yhen they 
got to the youth's residence, the leader shot off his gun, raised the door- 
fiap, and allowed the girl to enter first, laden with the pemmican and the 
footgear made by her family. She sat down beside her l()V(>r, laying down 
the meat and the twelve pairs of moccasins, and waited while he ate the 
food. When he had eaten, he handed back the pan, and stowed away 
the moccasins. The gifts were brought indoors, and the hors(\s were 
picketed. The girl's relatives returned to their camj). Not long after this 
visit, the proposer's parents invited all the members of their family and 
divided the jjroperty among them. The recipients came back the next day, 
returning to the donor some gifts of superior value to those received. The 
bridegroom's father asked an old man to lead the procession of his relatives 
to the girl's lodge. This old man, when close to the lodge, shot ofi' a gun, 
and the presents were brought in and distributed among the girl's relatives. 
After this exchange of gifts, the youth could come for his wife at any time 
he pleased, and they settled in a ncAV lodge as soon as practicable. 

From Henry's account it appears that the suitor generally courted the 
girl he wished to marry at night, without disturbing the other inmates of the 
lodge. If she consented, he lay with her, retired at daybreak, and informed 
his mother, who then discussed the matter with the. girl's mother. If the 
women arrived at an agreement, the young man's father invited that of the 
young Avoman to a sweat-lodge, where he announced his son's intentions. 
The girl's parent reserved decision until the next day, when he invited the 
other to a sweat-house. If they agreed upon the marriage, the terms were 
then settled: the young man was either pledged to serve his father-in-law 
for a stated period or must offer a present. In the former case, he and his 
parents visited the bride's family, a feast was prepared, the father-in-law 
delivered a speech, and the young man remained with his wife's relatives. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 41 

Otherwise, the man's parents visited the woman's family to offer their o'ift 
and returned home. Shortly after, the girl was escorted by her parents to 
the bridegroom's lodge, where she was seated beside the young man. In 
this case, the feast and speech were made by the bridegroom's father.^ 

Polygamy was frecjuent. The levirate was also commonly practised. 
A married woman will still wait on her brothers-in-law as if they were her 
husbands, though there is no sexual intercourse between them. If a man's 
wife dies, he has a pre-emptive right to her younger sister, and if the girl 
is still immature she is kept for him until puberty. First cousins were not 
allowed to marry. 

A woman was not allowed to speak to her father-in-law, and a man was 
not permitted to hold conversation with either his father-in-law^ or his 
mother-in-law\ A man may be kind to his wife's parents, bringing them 
horses or robes, but he must not talk to them. So far as the father-in-law 
taboo is concerned, absolution from it is possible if the son-in-law brings 
home a scalp. It is doubtful whether the mother-in-law taboo could be 
similarly removed, as was the case among the ^Nlandan.^ Even to-day a 
son-in-law is not permitted to use, in ordinary conversation, any term 
forming part of his father-in-law's name. If the father-in-law's name is 
Yellow-Knife, the young man must paraphrase the concept "knife" by 
saying "something sharp" ; instead of " tobacco," he would, in a correspond- 
ing case, be obliged to say "smoke"; instead of "horse," "the animal we 
ride," and so forth.'' 

Death. When a man died, his relatives washed his entire Ijody, comlied'' 
and braided his hair, and painted his face. The corpse was taken out by 
the ordinary exit, wrapped up in a robe, and deposited on a tree or burial- 
stage, sometimes with several other bodies. According to ^Nlaximilian,^ men 
distinguished for bravery were laid on the ground and covered with wood 
and stone to protect them against wolves. According to the younger Henry, 
the dead were buried in a sitting posture with faces towards the east.'^ De 
Smet states that the feet of the corpse were always turnetl toward the west. 
When the scaffolds or trees containing the bodies fall, "the relatives bury 
all the other bones, and place the skulls in a circle in the plain, with faces 
turned toward the center." Bison skulls were also placed there, and in the 
center a medicine-pole hung with waka"' pendants was planted to protect 

1 Henry, pp. 300-303. 

2 J. O. Dorsey, (c), p. 241. 

3 Cf. Denig: "The names of the wife's parents are never proiiouucfd iiy tin- hiisbaad: to 
do so would excite the ridicule of the whole camp." In J. O. Dorsey, (c), p. 225. 

■* Maximilian, I, p. 446. Assiniboine graves are figured in the Prince's Atlas, Tab. 30. 

s Coues, p. 521. The older Henry, in a passage apparently referring to the Assiniboine 
(p. 303 f.), describes circular graves five feet deep, lined with bark or skin; the body was in a 
sitting posture. 



42 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Histortj. [Vol. IV, 

the remains.^ Sometimes dogs were killed to accompany the dead to the 
spirit world.- 

For mourning, husbands and wives cropped their hair. If a man was 
very fond of his wife, he would not marry until his hair had grown again. 
A woman also showed her affection for a deceased husband by remaining 
unwedded for a long time. Children are not said to have exhibited outward 
signs of mourning on the death of their parents, l^nlike the Crow, the Assi- 
niboine did not cut off a finger in token of mourning. Among the Stoneys, 
when a boy or girl died, his parents cut off a lock of hair from the middle of 
the head, and thereafter kept it in a bag. This custom is still observed to 
some extent. 

Regulations of inheritance were simplified by the fact that most of a 
deceased person's personal effects, such as arms, clothes and kitchen utensils 
were buried with the corpse. This was particularly true of such objects as 
medicine-pipes and sacred shields. A single man's horse had his mane and 
tail docked on the death of his owner, and was turned loose. If a married 
man died, his best horses were turned loose, the remainder were inherited 
by his wife, or in part by his son if he had attained to majority. 

Berdaches. Berdaches (wi'^'ya" i"kEnu'ze, or wi'^kta"') were known 
to the Assiniboine. They became such as a result of dream revelations to 
that effect, and were accordingly regarded as waka"'. They did not marry, 
and mingled freely among both men and Avomen. They performed all the 
household and industrial work of the female sex, and in conversation em- 
ployed the affirmative and imperative particles peculiar to women's speech. 
According to a Stoney tale, there was once a berdache who married a man. 
Ei erat mentula parva, et infra illam cunnus. He performed both a man's 
and a woman's work. Erant ([ui eum marem esse censerent, sed narratoris 
matri se et masculina et muliebria genitalia habere demonstravit. Cum 
iUius conjux ab Indianis "Blood" interfectus esset, ab alio Indiano ex eis 
qui "Cree" appellantur in matrimonium ductus est, quo mortuo ad suos 
rediit. The Cree took him for a man, but his spouse declared him to be a 
berdache. 

Religious Life. 

Shamanism. As among the Dakota, ^ there were two classes of medical 
l)ractitioners,— the root-doctor (peju'da wintca'cta) and the holy man 
(wintca'cta waka"'). 



> De Smet, p. 1141. 

- Clark, p. 54. 

3 Riggs, pp. 214-215. 



1909.] Loxne, The Assiniboine. 43 

So far as I could learn, the practice of curing illness hy medicinal roots 
and herbs is not the prerogative of a class differentiated from the rest of the 
tribal community. As root-medicines are not burnt or buried at their 
owner's death, they are inherited by the closest relative of the deceased, who 
may dispose of them at his discretion. If the legatee, or purchaser, accom- 
plishes a cure by means of his specific, people suffering from the same 
ailment will ask for his aid, offering adecjuate compensation. The procedure 
is on a strictly commercial basis. ]My interpreter complained that a peju'da 
wintca'cta would not doctor gratuitously even in the most serious cases. 
On the other hand, payment of his fee is contingent on the patient's recov- 
ery. Owing to the commercial value of a remedy, its owner naturally 
observes great secrecy with regard to the kind of root employed and the 
method of application. A person afflicted with some chronic sickness 
generally buys the remedy outright in order to prevent successive payments 
of ultimately greater aggregate value. 

My interpreter, Dick Jones, had acquired two simples for stopping 
nasal hemorrhage. Last spring his stepdaughter had an attack, and hope 
of her recovery was abandoned by the government physician. The girl 
was staying at the school building. After long-continued solicitation on her 
father's part, the agent consented to the patient's removal to her parents' 
home. Dick then proceeded as follows. He pulverized part of a weed, 
soaked it in water, and mixed it with a root that had been similarly treated. 
The girl was then requested to snuft' the solution up into her nose. Wet 
leaves were next stuffed into one nostril, and they stopped the bleeding. 
When the hemorrhage broke out in the other nostril, it was similarly treated. 
The stuffing was continued for two da vs. The girl was cured, and is well 
to-day.^ Since that time, if anyone in the tribe is afflicted with bleeding 
from the nose, he visits Dick, offering a horse in compensation for his services. 

The Indians have no faith in vaccination. They believe that "smallpox 
has eyes, and sees who is afraid of it." Hence, it is best to stay near those 
smitten with smallpox, to use the same pipe, eat from the same dish, wrap 
one's self in the same blanket, and to show in other ways that one is not afraid 
of the disease. 

An infusion of the leaves of a species of sage-brush (peji'-xo'da-mana'- 
ska^ska = literally, gray-flat grass) is said to l)e used as an emetic, whicli 
cleanses the body of noxious fluids. 

In serious cases of sickness, a wintca'cta waka"' is resorted to. By 
means of his spiritual advisers he is to decide as to the adequacy of ordinary 
doctoring or the necessity for waka"^' practices. The latter are always 
required for extracting a nocturnal insect that enters people's bodies. Ghost.s 
do not appear to be regarded as pathogenic agents. 

1 The government officials naturally give a somewhat different version of the case. 



44 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xaturat History. [Vol. IV, 

A wintca'cta waka"' has the power to injure a personal enemy, but in 
case he does, his spirits punish him for his malpractice, either he himself 
or a near relative being smitten with some affliction. Thus, a bad medicine- 
man had magically caused Isto'-ega"'s blindness, but was killed by another 
Indian he had injured. An old Stoney ascribed his blindness and abnormally 
frequent micturition to the magic of Cree visitors, whom he had refused to 
present with horses. A Fort Belknap Indian had been a famous hunter in 
his youth; his success roused the jealousy of a rival, who smote him with 
blindness. In the last two cases the ])unishm(>nt of the malefactor was 
not indicated by the informants. 

The following story recounts a somewhat specialized mo(l(> of treatment. 
Once a shaman who had received supernatural revelations from a horse 
was treating a sick man. A lodge was erected, the entrance facing south. 
At some distance a lodge-pole having some flannel attached to it was planted 
in the ground. A horse, which had flannel tied around his neck and calico 
and feathers around his mane, was tied to the pole. Paint was put on, 
beginning from his mane and passing down the entire back, and th(> ti]) of 
his nose was reddened. Some singers entered the lodge and sang according 
to the shaman's directions. After several songs, the performer walked to the 
horse, untied him, and brought the rope to the lodge, the horse still remain- 
ing in the same position. The shaman unpinned the front of the lodge, 
so that the horse could enter. At the next intonation of the song, the horse 
walked into the lodge, and began smelling the sick man, who was not even 
able to turn from one side to the other. Whenever the horse drew a breath, 
smoke of various colors — blue, red, black — issued from his nostrils. He 
placed his mouth over the sick man, and several rovmd objects fell on the 
patient's breast. The shaman ordered the man to swallow them, which he 
did. The horse walked out to the pole and stood facing the lodge-entrance. 
The patient suddenly felt like rising. First he sat up, then he rose unaided, 
stepped out of the lodge, walked around the camp, returned, and sat down. 
He said that he no longer felt weak, but was inclined to walk about. Pre- 
viously he had not been able to eat, now he was hungry. The shaman said, 
"It is going to rain presently. When it rains, strip naked, go outside, and 
get washed by the rain. Before this, you must not touch your wife. If 
you disobey, you will only live a very short time; it will be like thrusting a 
knife into your throat." A cloud appeared, and grew in size. The doctor 
and his singers left. The rain-drops began to fall. The convalescent's 
wife approached. Her husband bade her enter. She refused, saying, "No, 
you are not allowed to touch me until you are well." The man said he was 
((uite well. Though the woman had not heard the doctor's directions, she 
knew it was not good for her husband to embrace her. However, he in- 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 4o 

sisted until she reluctantly a})proached. Then he seized her. She hade 
him release her, again warning him, but nevertheless he embraced her. 
She went home. After a while, the shaman returned. As he entered, the 
horse began to neigh. The doctor said, "You have transgressed mv 
orders, I shall not treat you any more." He turned the horse loose, and 
went away. The patient was taken sick again, with ]>ains in ever\' part 
of his body. He died the next noon. 

The method of treatment in a })ainted lodge will be given in connection 
with a personal narrative. 

Shamanistic doctoring can also be carried on as part of a public medicine- 
performance {wacjl'hsuyahi, or icalca'xamhi). For a shamanistic exhil)ition 
several tents are put together to form a large lodge. A feast, consisting ex- 
clusively of berries, is prepared. The people wait outside at a distance of 
about twenty-five yards. The performers enter. On one occasion a woman 
with a crooked neck came in to be treated. She was laid on blankets near 
the fireplace. Four shamans stood around her. There were many men 
to sing and drum. These began to chant, beating their hand-drums. One 
shaman had a large knife. He made a feint at the woman's neck. As soon 
as he pulled back his knife, all the spectators shouted, "Ho', ho, ho, ho\'", 
this l)eing a wish for success. The other three practitioners examined the 
neck. One of them prophesied as to the issue of the operation. A fire 
was built on one side of the lodge. After the third song, the operator wetted 
the edge of the knife with his lips, heated it at the fire, and then brought it 
down to the woman's neck. There was a general whoop. He began to cut. 
The blood came gushing forth. Then he removed the knife, having almost 
completely severed the patient's neck. The doctors raised the woman, 
made her stand up, tiu-ned her head backwards, walked her once around 
the lodge, and then laid her down at the former place. One of them left 
the tent, and brought back a bunch of sage-brush. The operator rubbed it/ 
around her neck, and handed it to the second shaman, who did the same and 
passed it to the third colleague. After the fourth shaman had gone through 
the same operation, the patient was made to sit up and was as well as ever. 
No trace of blood was visible. She danced around the circle once, then she 
went home. She was told to prepare a feast whenever there was a shaman- 
istic performance, otherw^ise it would go ill with her. The next performer 
was a man dressed in a bear-skin, holding a big knife in one hand, and a 
muzzle-loader in the other. He said, "Anyone may take my gun and shoot 
me." One man took the gun, which was loaded. "Put powder in the 
barrel, and drop a piece of lead in there." The man obeyed. Then he 
was told to stand about ten yards off. The bear-man growled like a bear, 
and imitated a bear in his movements. Ilie man pointed the gun at him, 



46 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

then the bear rushed on him, seized the gun, and with his knife, split it in 
two. Then he i)ut the two halves together again, and the gun was as good 
as ever. Next, the performer again ordered the man to take the gun and 
shoot at him from the same place. He stripped, and began growling like 
a bear. He walked up to the man and bade him shoot at the fourth dash. 
When the bear-man rushed at his opponent the fourth time, he was shot 
above the navel. The barrel of the gun drop})ed. The blood began to 
ooze. The other shamans covered the performer with robes, and began 
singing over the prostrate form, saying that he was merely displaying his 
power. They danced around. Suddenly, the dead man made a movement. 
One man raised his robe. A fire was burning near-by. The l)ear-man rose, 
pointed at his Avound, growled like a bear, jum])ed around, picked up a 
handful of lire, rubbed it on his wound, and fell to coughing, until he coughed 
up the bullet shot into him. They kept singing for a while, finally the 
performer walked off. Another shaman rose. He was dressed in a buffalo 
robe, and held two arrows in his hands. He sang several songs, then he 
announced that he could not do much, nevertheless he did not like the other 
shamans to laugh at him for not doing anything. He asked two men to 
step up to him. Singing, he told these men to ])ush the arrows through his 
body from side to side. They followed his directions until the arrows 
crossed. He showed them to the spectators, then he sang again, and the 
men pulled out the arrows. The blood came spurting out of his body. He 
simply rubbed fire over the wound and effaced every trace of it. 

All these performers lived to be very old men. 

Keating relates, on the authority of a French trader, how an Assiniboine 
shaman filled an empty keg with water, — apparently l)y the bursting of a 
secretly attached bladder, though pretending to rely on the strength of his 
incantations.^ 

The power of medicine-men is illustrated by the following Stoney narra- 
tive. One night Ben Tci'niki desired to go on a horse-raid against the 
Blackfoot. A member of his party filled a pipe for him; which Tci'niki 
extended, saying, "Kanu'za hini'ngaktatc maa'zukoktatc!" ("Let bad 
winds come!") It became cloudy and began to rain. All the Blackfoot 
stayed within their lodges. The Stoneys approached unseen, stole horses, and 
made their escape. When at a safe distance, Tci'niki said, "Cena' eu'sta" 
("This is enough"), and the weather cleared. 

The Stoneys use a number of love-charms. The commonest of these is a 
redolent herb rubbed on the body to attract women. Sometimes, the man 
drinks of a philtre and gives it to the unsuspecting girl coveted, who suddenly 



1 Keating, I, p. 408. 



1909.] Loivie, The Assiniboinc. 47 

becomes enamored of him. A method of procedure probably borrowed 
from the Cree is for the young man to model an image both of himself and of 
the woman and to wrap the figures up together with some medicine. 

Individual Revelations. It has been pointed out that frequently the 
religious experiences of shamans and ordinary tribesmen are fundamentally 
alike, the only difference being in the extent and character of the help secured. 
This conclusion is eminently appHcable to the Assiniboine. Men went out 
to fast and pray in C[uest of mysterious power, or receiyed instruction with- 
out special supplication, and it depended solely on the nature of the com- 
munication whether they became founders of dancing-societies, waka*^' 
practitioners, owners of painted lodges, fabricators of Avar shirts, or prophets. 
In every case, implicit obedience to the directions received was obligatory. 
Neglect of such instructions is said to be the reason why so many Indians 
have died within recent times. 

If a person dreamt of an animal, he was not supposed to kill it or eat its 
flesh. A Stoney woman dreamt of a bear. Thereafter she made it a rule 
not to eat bear-meat. On one occasion, nevertheless, she tasted some; in 
consequence, she came near being transformed into a bear herself. She 
vomited the meat, and thenceforth never touched bear-meat. Another 
Stoney woman used to dream of buffalo. She was invariably able to tell 
beforehand where they would be herding. At last, the buffalo became in- 
censed because she always informed her people of their whereabouts, and 
ceased to visit her in her dreams. The mother of the woman who abstained 
from bear-meat also dreamt of a bear. She requested her husband to bring 
her a cub. She nursed it together with her own child, one at each breast. 
When grown up, the bear still remained in the camp. When addressed by 
his foster-mother, he nodded his head, but never paid any attention to 
other people. ]Men dreaming of a buffalo sometimes dreamt its age as 
well; in this case, they would spare animals of that age, but could kill all 
others. In battle, such a man might turn into a buffalo, ^^'hen the 
enemy retreated, he would follow, hooking and killing them with his horns. 
An aged informant spoke of a man who had killed thirty hostile Indians in 
this manner. ]My Stoney interpreter does not like to dream of anythir.g he 
eats. He likes to dream of horses. Once he dreamt of a pinto, antl sub- 
sequently found one. Some Stoneys used to dream of a little being living in 
the mountains. They would go to visit him, enter a hole in the mountain- 
side, and get to a village of little men. These little beings sometimes bark 
at night; in the night and early in the morning they can still be heard 
barking in the vicinity of the Saskatchewan. Jim Crack, when young, 
dreamt of a little man, who taught him to prepare medicines and to hunt 
every kind of game; in conseciuence, he became a great hunter. As a 



48 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Hisforij. [Vol. I\', 

rule, the Stoneys say, people dreamt only when very young. Their familiars 
would instruct them for several years, and then leave them forever. 

While driving past the Snake Butte on the Fort Belknap reservation, my 
interpreter told me the following typical story of supernatural ex])erience. 
"Long ago people used to go and pray for mysterious power on the conical 
eminence at one extremity of the Snake Butte. Freciuently, the supi)licants 
were attacked by snakes, and relatives going in search of them would only 
find their skeletons. Nevertheless, one young man, setting at naught the 
advice of his friends, decided to go there. With him he took his two-etlged 
(?) knife (mi'na ta'hga), stripi)ed naked, and lay down. Suddenly, in the 
night, he heard a sound and beheld a large number of rattlesnak(\s ap- 
proaching him. He did not know what to do. In his frenzy, he began 
cutting off strips of flesh from his own body, and fed them to the snakes. 
Then one very large snake rose from its hole, and thus addressed him. ' I am 
very thankful to you for feeding my children. None of the other men have 
done this before, that is why they were all devoured. Come, follow me, 
there is some one that wishes to speak to you.' The youth went down into 
the hole and was ushered to a large blue tent, encircled by two large snakes. 
He was welcomed by two curly-haired black men, who spoke Assiniboine to 
him, and from them and the snakes he received religious instruction." 

The acquisition of su})ernatural power is further illustrated by the 
following personal narrative by Isto'-ega"'. "W'hen I was a yoimg l)()y, I 
once dreamt of something shaped like a saw that was whirling around. 
Another time I woke up to find myself in my brother's lodge without know- 
ing how I got there. A third time I had a vision and stepj)ed out of doors 
to look around. The fourth time a person came, and I was not alarmed. 
'There is someone outside that wishes to see you,' the apparition said to me; 
' they want you over there, where the light is.' I followed his directions, 
and got to a large man called Big-White-]\Ian. He said, 'I have taken pity 
on you for a long time, and I am going to help you. Go over there to that 
tent. They will tell you what to do.' 1 walked over, and entered the lodge. 
An old woman was sitting inside. 'Grandchild,' she said, 'we pity you, 
that is why we have called you. Look how this lodge is painted.' There 
was a yellow picture of the sun in the back of the tipi. 'If you ever marry 
and erect your own lodge,' she continued, 'put this picture in the rear. It 
represents the sun. The sun is above us, and has power over the whole 
earth and the heavens. We are going to give you the right to this picture. 
If you obey, your family will rarely be taken ill, and if they do, they will re- 
cover. So long as you have the picture in your lodge, you will enjoy 
life together with your family.'" 

The essential psychological similarity of all supernatural revelations, 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine 49 

regardless of the si)ecific content of the communication, is brouglit out by 
another experience cited on the same authority. "At a later period, I dreamt 
of several men, who told me I was wanted in a certain tent. I walked to the 
lodge indicated. It was painted red all over. Right over the door was a 
picture of a man with outspread arms. As I entered, I bumped against 
something; it was a bell. An old man was sitting inside. He said, 'Mv 
son, I am the one who has summoned you. I shall give you the painted 
lodge (wio'ha) and teach you how to use it.' To the right of the entrance 
there was the figure of a woman. I was told to copy it in my painted lodge. 
Then I was asked to look outside. About four feet from the ground there 
was painted a snake heading towards the east; it was faced by another 
snake from the opposite side. The space between the two animals was 
completely covered with red paint. Their tails encircled the entire circum- 
ference of the tent-cover. Above the heads of the serpents there extended 
the figure of a man, while a small snake was coiled iiear the top. I re- 
entered. The top of the lodge was explained to represent the sky-opening, 
and the bell the heart of a man speaking. The inmate of the lodge showed 
me his heart, and I saw it looked like a bell. Then he told me I was to get 
the waka'^' power to aid the sick. 'Thus you will get plenty of horses and 
abundance of food, besides your family will always be well. When you 
doctor a patient, you must act as follows: — Near the fireplace plant one end 
of a tree-trunk not stripped of its foliage, and stick the other end into the 
flap-holes; get three or four dressed buffalo skins, and construct a little 
booth. Allow yourself to be tied hand and foot with buckskin thongs, then 
have tanned robes wrapped about you and tied from the outside. Have a 
rock put near the fireplace. It should be painted red and ought to rest on a 
clean piece of calico. Have a little dog suckling cooked and set near the 
fireplace. Two, or three, drummers are to sit on the right-hand side of the 
entrance; no one else must be admitted. Suspend a bell from the trunk.' 
Next the old man taught me a song. He told me that one drum should lie 
by the painted rock. The two drummers were to begin singing, then I vras 
to join in the chant. When they began singing the second time, another 
man was to ladle out the pup-meat into a pan and deposit it on the right side 
of the rock. In the interval between the third and fourth songs a spirit would 
call, ring the bell, and speak plainly, so that all the people could understand. 
A noise would be heard in the skies. The visitant was not to be seen, 
but onlv to be heard. He would ask what was the matter, "llicn you 
must ask him for aid. He will first eat the pup. Then he will tell you 
whether the patient can be cured, and, if so, how soon. If a cure is im 
possible, he will say so. He will disappear, but first he will free you in the 
twinkle of an eye, and hang all your bonds on the tops of the tipi-poles. This 
is the way to doctor people in a painted lodge.'" 



50 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

In a similar way Isto'-ega"^' secured the ritual of the fool-dance.* ^Fhe 
sweat-lodge ceremonial was imparted to him while he was staying on a 
mountain-top, praying for supernatural i)0\ver. A great spirit finally re- 
vealed the secrets of the sweat-lodge, ordering him to keep up the ceremony. 
If he obeyed, he would live to be an old man. The same si)irit also informs 
him of future events. 

The Stoneys sometimes allowed themselves to be tied up in a moose-skin 
for a night. A supernatural being would come and carry them up to the sky. 

Ghosts. Though ghosts (wana'ri) do not ai)pear to ])lay a ])i-<)ini- 
nent part in the religious life of the people, narratives of individual enccnuiters 
with them are not lacking. ]\Iy Stoney interpreter was once riding in the 
dark, when he suddenly caught sight of a fire. He cried out, "What are you 
doing there?" There was no reply. He rode on. Then he felt stones and 
sticks thrown at him, not hurting, but merely touching him. T\w jielting 
continued for about half an hour. He was nearly frightened to death before 
he reached camp. Another Stoney was out one night, and suddenly heard 
a shot. Quite close he heard another shot. Suddenly a man of (pieer ap- 
pearance was standing on the other side of the fire. At fii'st he looked at the 
Indian without saying a word. Then he took his gun and pointed it four 
times at my informant's face. The Indian was stiff with fright. The 
visitant looked at the man's anus, then he departed. Soon he was heard 
shooting outside again, and squirrels came running by. Then the Stoney 
heard him laugh, saying, "I missed them." A little later, he said, "Now, 
I have killed them." The Indian started homewards. As he was walking 
along, the ghost said, "You will get to your mother's lodge to-morrow 
morning. Before you get there, I shall give you four deer." The Indian 
really shot four deer on his way. 

According to Maximilian and De Smet,- the souls of the deceased go 
south. I could not get any confirmation of this statement from the Stoneys, 
and my Ft. Belknap informant declared that the dead go towards the east 
(indo'garan). There they pursue their old ways of living. Many Indians 
dream that they are associated with the dead in a fine country and that, 
looking down, they find the earth to be an inferior place by comparison. 

De Smet mentions an annual, or semi-annual, ceremony around the 
burial-scaffolds, or circles of skulls, at which the relatives of the deceased 
call the dead by their names and deposit offerings of meat. Even on other 
occasions puffs of smoke are sent to the dead, and memorial offerings of 
meat are burnt in their honor.^' 



1 See p. 62. 

2 Maximilian, I, p. 446. De Smet, p. 942. 

3 De Smet, pp. 941-942, 1142. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 51 

Sacred Pipe. To illustrate the esteem in which a medicine-pipe (tcanu'^^ba 
waka"') was held by the Plains Indians, an Assiniboine told the following 
story. Once a big battle was taking place between the Bloods and the Assini- 
boine. They fought for a long time. Suddenly a Blood advanced, carrying 
a medicine-pipe. An Assiniboine shot and killed him, and seized the pipe. 
The victim's horse ran back. There were so many Bloods around the slain 
man, that the Assiniboine could not count coup on him. The Bloods sat 
down in a row near the pipe-bearer's body. An Assiniboine woman who had 
been captured and raised by the Bloods was dispatched to the Assiniboine, 
who were in a desperate position, having exhausted their supply of ammuni- 
tion. She said, "The Bloods declare that if you return the pipe they will 
cease fighting you, and you will be saved." The Assiniboine considered the 
matter, and decided to return the pipe. The man who had shot the Blood 
packed his gun and approached the enemy. When they saw him, all laid 
away their guns and raised their arms in token of gratitude. They spread 
out their finest blankets, and he laid the pipe on it. They cried, "Ai!", to 
express their gratitude, and bade him sit on the blanket. The dead man's 
closest relatives filled the pipe and made the Assiniboine smoke it. It was 
passed around once, then the stem was taken out and inserted in another 
bowl. They finished smoking. The Bloods heaped up a lot of blankets, 
moccasins, armlets, and other articles. They asked their visitor whether 
the Assiniboine were out of annnunition, and presented him with an abun- 
dant supply. They gave him their l)est gun, and bade him return with his 
gifts and distribute them among his j^eople. Then the Assiniboine were to 
depart, which they would be allowed to do without molestation. "When 
you are gone far away, we shall pick up our dead man, and go away." The 
Assiniboine joined his friends, delivered his message, and divided his presents 
among them. The woman messenger followed them to inform the Bloods 
as soon as they were out of sight, so that they could pick up their tlead 
friend's body. The Assiniboine, the narrator added, held their own medi- 
cine pipe in equally high regard. 

White Buffaloes. Unlike the Teton Sioux and the Crow,* the Assini- 
boine do not seem to have jiractised any elaborate ceremony, within recent 
times, in connection with the killing of a buffalo all)ino. The slayer of the' 
animal merely refrained from eating the meat, and presented the skin to a 
chief, who usually comi:)ensated him with a substantial gift, such as a horse. 
The recipient then had the hide dressed, and wore it for a robe. The wearer 
of such a garment was nicknamed Pte-ska'-ha-i"' (White-Bufi'alo-Robe). 
The lack of a ceremonial celebration mav, however, have been due to the 



1 According to information gathered b5- the writer. 



52 Anthropological Papers American Museum of IVaturaJ Historn. [Yo]. JY . 

absence of a medicine-pipe among the Assiniboine during the last few decades. 
One informant, at least, recalled that the Assiniboine had carefully skinned a 
white buffalo and presented the hide to the Gros Ventre chief as one who 
owned a medicine-pipe. The donor received the recipient's best horse as a 
compensation. The chief's wives, after dressing the hide, i)ainted it yellow, 
and it was ultimately offered to the sun. 

Sweat-lodge. Though the same term, ini'mbi, is applied in either case, 
a distinction is made between sweating in the ordinary sweat-lodge that may 
be put up by anyone and at any time,^ and the sweating ceremony conducted 
on the basis of supernatural experience, which was formerly practised once 
every spring, when the people were expecting the first thunder of the season. 

The sudatory is built with twelve sticks, the entrance facing south. 
The fireplace is in the center, sunk about twelve inches deep, and grass is 
put around it. Twelve rocks are heated outside. When the celebrants, 
stripped naked, have entered the lodge, an attendant brings in the heated 
rocks, one by one, with a green forked stick. A bucket of water is set l)eside 
the fireplace. Outside the lodge, sweetgrass is burnt. The performer 
takes a large pipe, holds its bowl over the incense, then points the stem at it. 
Next, the pipe, filled with kinikkinik, is laid on top of the sweat-lodge, the 
stem pointing west. The master of ceremonies stands outdoors and sum- 
mons the spirit, calling him either "Ade' owa"^" (my father -f- ?) or "Mi"- 
tu^'gac" (my grandfather). Then he re-enters the lodge, which is covered 
up by the attendant. After a short time, the spirit enters and can be heard 
speaking, though only those within can understand his words. He tells them 
that the sweat-lodge has been erected in his honor. The spokesman then 
prays for a long and easy life for all the participants. The attendant brings 
in the pipe, which is laid across two peeled sticks, Avhich are about a foot 
long and painted red. The master of ceremonies makes the motions of 
smoking over the fireplace, points the pipe east, south, west and north, 
prays as before, and lights the pipe. He smokes, and passes the pipe to the 
left. When all have smoked, the pipe is returned to the head-performer, 
who now holds it in his hands. The man sitting at the left of the entrance 
seizes one of the pipe-rests, the man at the right picks up the other stick, 
and the master lays down the pipe, thus formally closing the ceremony. As 
he does so, all within the lodge cry " Ai!," or " o'hihi!," as a ceremonial ex- 
pression of thanks. The two men at the door voice the wish that they may 
live long enough to hobble along with a cane. 

Ceremonial Buffalo Chase. In the spring, when everything gets green, 
a wi'^tca'cta waka'^', the manager of the sun-dance, will order his wives 



1 The sweat-lodge of the Assiniboine is briefly referred to by Henry, p. 301-302. 



1909.] LoiL'ie, The Assiniboine. 53 

to cook for a feast and to jiut up the largest lodge. Then he bids a crier 
(cankpa'niini, or e'yaba'ha) invite the councilors. This officer goes around 
the camp-circle, summoning old and distinguished men. These gather in 
the council-lodge, and, while smoking, await the arrival of the tardier guests. 
In the meantime they recite stories of their personal adventures. ^Yhen all 
have assembled, the host fills his black pipe. This pipe is decorated with 
red horsehair symbolizing wounds, while the human hair on it represents 
scalps secured by the owner. The crier is seated at the right-hand side of 
the door. The chief passes the pipe to the crier, who lights it. The i)ipe is 
passed, smoked by each tribesman, and then returned to its owner, who 
says, "I have something on my mind that I wish to speak about, but first we 
will eat." Then the herald waits on the guests, putting the dishes and 
baskets outside as soon as they are emptied. He lights a fire in the fireplace, 
takes some sweetgrass hanging in the lodge, and burns it for incense. "While 
the grass is burning, the chief announces that he is going to pack up some 
tobacco and will build a medicine-lodge in the summer. He calls on four 
men to recount their deeds. Each of these rises, and in succession they tell 
how they have scalped enemies, loosened picketed horses, etc. After the 
end of the last story, the chief j)icks up some Canadian (?) tobacco, and 
hands it to the first of the four braves, who takes it, declaring that it is only 
on account of his valor that he is allowed to cut tobacco for the medicine-man. 
" If I had not performed brave deeds, I should not dare to touch the tobacco." 
The other three men make similar declarations, each cutting the tobacco. 
The four pieces are returned to the chief and laid on a piece of buckskin. 
The medicine-man then selects four men not quite so distinguished as those 
previously appointed, and hands them several braids of sweetgrass. They 
recount their deeds, cut up the braids, and make declarations similar to 
those of their predecessors. The cut pieces of sweetgrass are laid before the 
chief, who wraps up each piece of tobacco with a piece of sweetgrass and puts 
them in a buckskin bag, which is tied with sinew. Then he announces, 
"In such-and-such a direction there are people living; I want this tobacco 
carried over there." He then takes the bags, ties them to a lodge-pole, and 
asks the councilors to announce to the camp that the tobacco must be carried 
to the people indicated. All smoke, then the guests file out. In the camp- 
circle the people ask the councilors Avhat the meeting was about, and the old 
men tell what was said and done. Then, if a young man is very brave, 
he may volunteer to become a tobacco-carrier (cane'paxta ai'sa). The 
volunteer's relatives give a feast, at which the host proclaims, "This man is 
going to take tobacco over to such-and-such a band." The guests rise, 
look at the young brave, and urge him to carry the tobacco through to the 
camp designated, regardless of danger from the enemy. Some evening the 



54 Anthropoloyical Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\'ol. IV, 

youth informs the chief that he is ready. The chief assures him that what- 
ever supernatural powers he himseh' possesses will be invoked in his behalf, 
then the young man takes the bag and sets out on his errand. 

A few days later, the messenger reaches the cam]). The first man he 
meets is asked to direct him to the chief. He goes straight towards the lodge 
indicated, enters, and sets the tobacco down behind the firej)lace. The 
chief immediately understands the import of this act, and issues orders to 
entertain the newcomer without as yet addressing a word to him. When the 
guest has eaten, the chief asks whether it was So-and-so that sent the tobacco. 
Then the young man informs him of all the details. The same night the 
chief bids his wives prepare a feast, and invites his people. All the old men 
come to his lodge, and as soon as they see the tobacco-bag they know what 
it means. They consider how far they may have to travel. The host takes, 
fills, and passes his pipe. When all have smoked, an attendant serves food. 
After the smoking, the chief rises. "This man has brought tobacco. You 
must declare whether you will smoke it or not. As for me, I am going to 
smoke it." Then some old man will rise and say, "The chief has said he 
would smoke. We are under him, and if he smokes I will help liim." Then 
the chief unties the bag, takes out a piece of tobacco, mixes it with the inner 
bark of a red willow, fills the pipe, and himself lights it. This is in token 
of accepting the sender's invitation. After smoking, he passes the ])ii)e 
around; those who decline to follow pass the pipe on without smoking, but 
this is a rare occurrence. When one piece of tobacco has been consvuned, 
the remaining pieces are re-tied, and the chief suspends them from a lodge- 
pole, and announces that he wishes this tobacco to be carried to such-and- 
such a camp that night. The news si)reads about the camp. A herald calls 
upon the brave young men to offer their services. He holds a pipe for the 
braves to smoke: if the smoker remains silent he will not go; if he desires 
the commission he immediately announces his intention, and then smokes. 
Great honor is shown to the volunteer, who then starts out on his errand. 
This performance is repeated in the remaining camps until the last ])iece 
of tobacco has been delivered. Acceptance of the tobacco involves the 
obligation to be on the march tow^ards the inviter's camp within four days. 
The messengers return to their chiefs as soon as possible with a |)iece of 
ordinary tobacco in token of acceptance. If one of the four pieces of tobacco 
has not been accepted, it is preserved for the next year. 

When the people from all the bands invited have assembled, the medicine- 
man appoints two officers and calls upon the Soldiers (agi'tcita ko'nagi- 
tciye) to dance. The officers notify the rank and file; a level dance-ground 
is selected, and the dance is held. The chief next orders a lodge to be con- 
structed of two ordinary lodges, which are put up in the center of the circle. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 



oo 



This lodge is called wiyo'trbi; the Soldiers remain there permanently, 
and thence issue orders to the camp. One day a herald proclaims that the 
chase is to begin the next day, and appoints a man to scout for buffalo. The 
scout departs. After a while, he returns. As soon as he becomes visible, 
a heap of buffalo-chips is piled up about a hundred yards outside the peri- 
phery of the camp. All the people watch him from afar. If his reconnois- 
sance has been successful, he rides directly into the i)ile, knocking the chips 
right and left. Then everyone is happy. If he rides around the pile, it 
indicates that he has not been able to locate the game. In the former case he 
recounts the details of his scouting-trip. Then an old man (the chief ?) 
declares, " This man has located buffalo, no one shall go after them until the 
Soldiers give permission." Everyone gets ready. The same evening, 
perhaps some other old man proclaims, "You must all set out in the morning; 
there will be two leaders (wi^tca'basi), and no one is to get in front of them." 

The next morning they set out. The two directors lead their moieties 
in complementary semicircles.^ If either moiety chases the buffalo pre- 
maturely, it is bad. The men chase the buffalo. After the hunt, all the 
meat is brought to the wiyo'trbi. The Soldiers feast and dance. 

De Smet furnishes some details as regards the ceremonial observances 
connected with the buffalo-pen. The superintendent of the tribal hunt 
was the one to plant the medicine-pole in the pound, and in order to charm 
the herd he attached to it a streamer of scarlet cloth, a piece of tobacco, and a 
buffalo horn. Before the discovery of the game, he beat his drum and 
chanted every morning, consulting his guardian spirits. The scouts took 
with them a waka'^' ball of buffalo hair, which they immediately sent to the 
director on locating a herd. During the absence of the ball, the master of 
ceremonies was obliged to fast, and this period of abstention was continued 
until the close of the hunt, with the limitation that he was permitted to eat 
animals captured within the pound. - 

MisceUaneous Beliefs and Customs. The waning of the moon is caused 
by little rats, which completely devour it. After four days, there is a new 
moon.^ 

The Assiniboine, according to De Smet,^ dread will-o'-the-wisps and bats 
as evil omens. 

"Our waiting- women arrived early, bringing wood and water. Washing 
appeared to me to be a ceremony of religion among the Osinipoilles; and I 
never saw anything similar among other Indians." " 

» Cf. J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 289. 

2 De Smet, p. 1029. 

3 Cf. Riggs, p. 16.5. 
* De Smet, p. 945 

5 Henry, pp. 288-289. 



56 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

Sun-dogs seen in winter indicate stormy weather for several days. 

The rainbow is called the rain-trap. 

Henry reports that it was customary to weep at a feast before commenc- 
ing to eat,^ apparently in honor of deceased relatives.^ 

One of my informants once witnessed a solar eclipse. Some Indians 
cried, "Shoot at the sun, it is ceasing to shine !" They shot at it. An eclipse 
is regarded as an indication of impending death or illness. This belief is 
also noted by De Smet, who states that the shooting is intended to put to 
flight the enemy of the "Master of Life." - 

When a young man sneezes, his mistress is speaking about him ; a corre- 
sponding belief is held with regard to a young woman's sneezing. 

It is believed that antelopes can turn into women and entice men away. 
Young men are warned not to play with women they find in the woods ; on 
the prairie there is less danger. When hunting antelopes, young men like 
to stay together.^ 

De Smet states that the Assiniboine offered j^rayers and sacrifices to the 
bear and celebrated feasts in its honor. A bear's head was often preserved in 
the camp for several days, mounted in a suitable position and decorated with 
scarlet cloth and other ornaments. "Then they offered it the cahunet, 
and asked that they might be able to kill every bear they met, without acci- 
dent to themselves, in order to anoint themselves with his fine grease and 
make a banquet of his tender flesh." * 

According to the same source, special honor was also shown to the wolf 
and the coyote. "INIost of the women refused to dress a wolf skin at any 
price." The howling of a coyote was interpreted by shamans as prophetic 
of visits, attacks, or the advent of buffalo, and the Indians frequently regu- 
lated their movements by these prognostications.^ 

Before drinking, many Assiniboines dipped the first finger of the right 
hand into the water and sprinkled the fluid into the air. Some claimed that 
this was done for the benefit of their deceased relatives." 

Ceremonial Organization. 

Owing to the complete break-down of the social organization of the 
Canadian branch of the tribe, very little could be learned with regard to 
Stoney dances. The prairie-chicken dance (ciyo'-wagadji'bi) seems to have 



1 Henry, p. 285-286 

2 De Smet, pp. 939-940. 

3 Cf. p. 200, and J. O. Dorsey, (b), p. 480. 
■> De Smet, p. 940. 

5 De Smet, pp. 940-941. 

Maximilian, I, p. 457. 



1909.] Loicie, The Assiniboine. 57 

been adopted from the Cree, — a siqjposition confirmed by the fact that the 
Indians of Ft. Belknap, who have preserved native customs to a much greater 
extent, knew of it only as a Cree dance. In position, the men's feet formed 
an acute angle; in dancing, one foot alternately crossed the other. From 
time to time, the dancer bent down low, his hands resting on his thighs. A 
rattle is supposed to imitate the sounds made by prairie-chickens. In the 
war-dance (kitci'sabi wagadji'l)i) the dancers carried scalps and knives 
painted red to symbolize the blood of the slain foes. Some painted half of 
their club handles in one color, and the remainder in another color. In a 
dance simply called wagadji'l)i (dance) only men partif-ipated. They wore 
breechclouts and eagle tail-feather headdresses. Half their faces were 
painted red, and the other half black. In addition to these, a squaw-dance, 
in which men and women danced in a circle towards the left, was performed 
within recent years. A skunk-dance was also mentioned, but without any 
further information. In the dances, both large drums and hand-drums 
were employed. Of regalia suggesting the ceremonial organizations of the 
Plains tribes, I only saw a porcupine headdress said to have been obtained 
from Sioux visitors and, in the Indian agent's private collection, two feathered 
spears with bone points. 

The information as to ceremonial life elicited during a much briefer stay 
at Ft. Belknap is given in the following pages. 

Horse-dance. This dance differs fron:> that of other societies in being 
primarily a religious ceremony, commonly regarded as on a par with the 
sun-dance. The Assiniboine are said to have obtained it from the Canadian 
Blackfoot about three generations ago. An Assiniboine visitor was told by 
the Northern Blackfoot that if he performed the ceremony he would obtain 
horses. They also instructed him to offer the pipe to Waka"'-ta'hga (Great 
Waka"'), to the sun, the thunder-bird, and the earth. My informant, 
Little-Chief, and his wife have joined in the dance ever since they have been 
about twenty years of age. Now, there are only about eight members left. 
^Yhen Little-Chief joined, he paid a bay and a black horse, two white horses, 
and a lodge with all its contents as an initiation fee. This was surrendered 
to his sponsor, who invited the entire society, and divided the jH-operty 
among the members. At that time there were four headmen. Little-Chief 
had noticed the prosperity of the members of the society, and that was his 
reason for wishing to join. A candidate was taught the ritualistic songs, 
and was told that he would get many horses, enjoy prosperity and live to be 
an old man. Two lodges Avere united to form the dance-lodge. Wild berries 
and choke-cherries, stored in buffalo-skin bags, were prepared for a feast, at 
which all spectators were welcome. The weeds and grass in the back of the 
lodge were cleared for an oblong altar, about three feet by one and a half in 



58 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

area. Here sweetgrass and juniper ( ?) needles were burnt for incense. All 
smoked the black pipe, then it was laid on the altar. The pipe was then 
offered to Waka'^'-tahiga, the sun, the thunder-bird, and the earth. Little- 
Chief was in the habit of paying some other old man to offer the pipe for him. 
This offering was accompanied by a prayer in behalf of the families of the 
celebrants, as well as of the whole tribe, and for plenty of horses. A dance 
followed, women joining their husbands. The performers did not change 
their position in the circle while dancing. Two drunnners sang, a third 
man sounded a bell (?), and eagle-bone whistles were blown. No special 
costume was worn. Some of the members always kept a horse picketed by 
their lodge, but Little-Chief did not follow this practice. On joining the 
society, Little-Chief received a wo'tawE, i. e., war-medicine, consisting of a 
wani'aga ta'iiga (an unidentified bird) skin, a weasel skin, a Aveasel-skin 
bonnet, and a square piece of buffalo skin. When going to war, he used the 
buffalo skin for a saddle-blanket. He would j:)aint his horse's legs with a 
representation of the lightning in red, and put yellow j)aint around its eyes 
and above its tail. Each man painted his horse differently, and each candi- 
date would also receive somewhat different gifts on becoming a member. 

Sun-dance (IVd'tijax; Stoney: Wahl'amha tvacptji'bi)} The sun-dance 
and the horse-dance are regarded as the two most sacred ceremonies of the 
Assiniboine. While, however, the horse-dance is the property of a society, 
the annual erection of the sun-dance lodge is the work of a single man possess- 
ing special cjualifications. Within recent years, several men have tried to put 
up a sun-dance lodge without having the prerequisite supernatural experi- 
ences, and have failed in each case. At one of these attempts, referred to 
independently by two individuals, a storm rose after the formation of the 
camp-circle and blew down many of the lodges; and on the next morning, 
the wife of the builder died unexpectedly. At present, there is only one 
Assiniboine capable of conducting the ceremony. Though not himself in 
any special rapport with supernatural powers, he received the necessary in- 
structions from his father, who had inherited them in the direct male line 
through six generations of ancestors and had himself claimed a peculiar 
relationship to the thunder-bird. The present incumbent has participated 
in the sun-dance from the age of nine. Owing to the relatively short period 
of time that had elapsed since his father's death, he did not feel disposed to 
erect the last annual lodge. Accordingly, the Assiniboine were obliged to 
mvite a visiting Cree possessing the indispensable qualifications to superin- 
tend the sun-dance ceremony. At present, the sun-dance is combined with 
the Fourth of July festivities sanctioned by the government. As the writer 



1 Cf. Curtis, III, 128-132. 



1909.] Louie, The Assiniboine. 59 

did not visit the reservation before August, he had no opportunity to witness 
any part of the ceremony, nor was it possible to make a systematic study from 
the data of informants. The following very meagre notes are, accordingh-, 
merely offered for what they are worth. 

In the winter, when the people of a band decided to have a sun-dance,' 
they all brought clothes for the dance. They got tobacco, tied it up in a bag 
having sweetgrass attached to its outside, and dispatched a messenger to 
each of the several bands that were to participate in the ceremony. The 
chief of the invited band would address the tobacco in prayer before his 
council, and announced where the dance was to be held. Then all moved 
towards the site of the inviting party's camp, and formed part of the camp- 
circle. 

When all the people had gathered in a circle, two lodges were taken down 
and joined to form a single lodge facing south. In this lodge a praver was 
addressed to the earth, and tobacco was buried in the ground. Aroimd the 
fireplace the earth was dug out to the depth of about 2 inches in a circle from 
8 to 10 feet in diameter. A fire was built, eagle-feather fans being used to 
fan the blaze, for if the })eo})le blew on the fire they would cause a windy day. 
Two j)ipes with black bowls and stems painted red were filled with tobacco 
and laid inside the circle, the bowls approaching the circumference. The 
hands of the performers were not allowed to touch the circular plot, which 
represented the earth and the sky. The men inside the lodge prayed. At 
this time the pledger and three old men seated themselves in the four corners 
of a square, one young man sitting between two old men to light the pipes. 
The pledger requested his three companions to bid the people be quiet and 
not get too close to the lodge. One of the young men - removed a coal from 
the fireplace by means of a stick, and lit both pipes. The pipes were passed 
around in a circle until they returned to the jdedger. The pledger recited a 
prayer, pointed the pipes towards the four cardinal directions, praying that 
all his people might live long and have a plentiful supply of buffalo, and laid 
them down. All the spectators cried, "Ai!" in token of gratitude. In 
the back of the lodge a rawhide rope was stretched between two poles. 
From this rope were suspended offerings of red flannel and calico. The 
people took a buffalo-hide scraped free of hair except along the back and tail, 
and laid it before the door. An old man summoned the voung men and 



1 It is doubtful whether it is justifiable to draw a sharp line between votive and annual sun- 
dances, as some writers are incUned to do. From the foregoing notes and De Smet's account 
(see p. 61), it appears that the Assiniboine ceremon5' was annual, yet we find it stated, that 
Wanotan, a Yanktonai chief, performed the sun-dance in fulfilment of a vow that he would 
erect the lodge if he returned in safety from a dangerous journey (Keating, I, pp. 430-431). 

2 It is not certain whether this office was filled by the pledger orone of the younger assis- 
tants. 



60 Anthropological Papers American Miiseum of Natural Histonj. [Vol. IV, 

women, announcing that the singing was to commence. He took four coals 
successively from the fire, depositing each in one of the corners of a sciuare. 
In each corner sweetgrass was burnt for incense. The young men formed a 
semicircle Avithin the lodge. The pledger lifted the hide, went around, and 
smoked it at each of the corners. Then he swung it in the air three times, 
and the fourth time threw it before the prospective singers, who belabored 
the hide with sticks, shouting, "Ai!" The pledger took his rattk- and sat 
down among the crowd. The singers began to chant. 

The preliminary singing was repeated during the three following nights. 
The fourth night, the singing continued until daylight. The figure of the 
new moon was traced on the ground and earth was heaped upon it. The 
circle then lost its sacred character, being superseded by the figure of the 
moon, on which sweetgrass was burnt. At daybreak the singers separated, 
going to their homes and leaving the pledger ak)ne in the lodge. In the 
morning the pledger summoned men distinguished for bravery. All dressed 
up in their war-garments, with head-bands of coyote and other skins, and 
gathered in the lodge. The pledger took his })i])e and, holding it for each 
brave, asked them to smoke. These men were dispatched to fetch the cen- 
tral pole of the medicine lodge. After they had departed, the entire camp- 
circle began to follow in their wake, the pledger leading afoot. The braves 
selected the site of the dance, marking it with a heap of willow branches. 
The pledger halted three times on the way. The foiu'th time the members 
of the party smoked. The braves returned running, singing their war-songs, 
and imitating the howling of coyotes and wolves. The pledger shook his 
rattle and sang. The braves chose a spokesman, who handed a willow 
branch to the pledger, telling him that he was the first to see the camp of the 
enemy. The speaker never mentioned whom he had killed, but was sup- 
posed to refer to his deed in this indefinite way. 

The peoi)le camped on the selected site. All the old men traveled about 
the camp circle, bidding the people dress and iiaint up, and instructing them 
what to do. When all Avere prepared, some men went around the circle, 
picking up young women on the way and crowding them into the center of 
the camp. Each young man selected a girl for a partner to ride on the same 
horse with him, the pledger led the procession, and the people followed him 
towards the cottonwood-tree selected by the old scouts. Around the tree 
the four corners of a sciuare were used to burn incense in. The pledger 
addressed the tree, informing it that it was going to be the center-pole of the 
lodge, and praying that the tribe might prosper and the children of his family 
grow up. He smoked, shook his rattle, and sang. Two men with axes 
took places, one on each side of the cottonwood. They made three passes 
with their axes, and, at the fourth movement, began to chop the tree down. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 61 

The spectators cheered as soon as the tree was seen to fall, and shot blank 
cartridges over it. When it rested on the gronnd, they stripped off the 
leaves for good hick. Then the people retnrned to camp, the pledger again 
taking the lead. The men dragged the tree along with ropes. "When the 
center pole had arrived at the site of the dance-ground, the bark below the 
fork was carved into a crescent-shaped figure symbolizing the sun. Below 
this figure was carved an eagle representing the thunder-bird. Near the 
foot of the tree a buffalo head was carved, which was said to represent the 
luck of the Indians in chasing buffalo. According to some accounts, there 
was also a two-faced figure carved for the lodge (anu'figihide).^ The young 
people then got rafters and brush for the lodge. From one prong of the 
fork a piece of red flannel was suspended as an ofYering to Waka"'-tanga, 
to the other was attached a similar offering to the thunder-bird. Branches 
representing a nest were placed on the fork, and tied with a skin. The 
Cottonwood was raised by means of two lodge-poles, each lifted by two men. 
When all the lodge-poles were in position, cherry bushes about two and a 
half feet high were cut down and used to form an enclosure, within which 
the celebrants danced. At the l)ack of the lodge they marked a scpiare, and 
a painted buft'alo skull was placed on this altar. A stick, serving as a 
tamper, was planted in the ground in front of the skull, to which an offering 
of tobacco was made. 

The actual dance formerly lasted three days and two nights, during which 
the performers fasted and did not sleep. Eagle-bone whistles were used. 
]\Iy informant professed never to have heard of torturing practices in the 
Assiniboine sun-dance, but the Stoneys described the well-known process 
of running skewers through the breast, adding that the celebrant's hands 
were tied behind his back so that he could not release himself. 

De Smet's account of an Assiniboine sun-dance - is of interest, princi{)ally 
as illustrating the composite character of the ceremony. Throughout the 
year, he relates, the Assiniboine look forward with eagerness to the time for 
erecting the medicine-lodge, which seems to have been the earliest part of 
spring. Three or four hundred families gather and construct the sacred 
lodge imder the directions of a single superintendent. A sacred pole is 
raised, from which medicine bags and trophies are suspended. To the tops 
of their lodge-poles the tribesmen attach their offerings of skins, garments, 

1 According to Curtis (III, pp. 12S-129), the Double-Face thus represented is a spirit 
which appears to devotees in the sun-dance, telUng them that he was searching for those that 
did not sacrifice to him. "He was quickly appeased by offerings of bits of flesh cut from the 
arms or the tips of fingers. Double-Face came also to members of war-parties, and though his 
two faces were exactly similar, his voices were unlike, and by tliis difference warriors were 
enabled to know whether success or failure awaited them." 

2 De Smet, pp. 937-939. 



62 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\'ol. IV, 

etc. to the Great Spirit. The master of ceremonies addresses a prayer for 
the common weal, offering a [jipe to the Great Spirit, the sun, the four 
({uarters, the water, and the land. This is followed by a general smoke, 
the great "medicine dance," and various dances in honor and imitation of 
buffalo, deer, and other animals. On the second day of the ceremony 
proper, there are magical performances by the medicine-men. The third 
day is largely occupied with banqueting, the favorite dish being dog-meat. 
While purely social dances were i>erformed for amusement, "a band of 
young men form the great religious dance, and make a vow to the thunder, 
or voice of the Great Spirit. Then they ])erform various dances, which last 
three whole days and nights, with only slight intervals, without their taking 
the least nourishment or refreshment." At the termination of the ceremony, 
which lasts aljout ten days, each person tears or cuts his sacrificial offering 
to preclude its appropriation by fellow-tribesmen, whereuj)on the several 
bands taking part in the ceremony separate. 

Fool-dance (WiHgo'gax watci'bi). When about sixteen years of age, 
lst5'-ega"^ was sleeping in the presence of his family. Suddenly he woke 
up and found himself in another lodge. From time to time he dreamt that a 
man came to the door, beckoning to him. He would try to follow the visi- 
tant, but as soon as he was outside the ap])arition vanished. This occur- 
rence was frequently repeated. Once he slept outdoors, close to a tazQ'k- 
bush. He dreamt that a man came, saying, "Let us go to my camp." 
He rose, and began to walk, but then there was no one to be seen. Some 
time after this dream, Isto'-ega^i^ was sleeping in his lodge, and the same man 
appeared. "They want you over there, let us go." jNIy informant followed 
to a little hill. There he saw a jet-black rock, a white rock, a tazO'k-bush, 
and an old woman. The woman said, "Grandchild, sit on that black rock." 
He sat down. The rock began to move, and a crow flew off". Then he 
was asked to sit on the white rock. He sat down. It moved, and when he 
arose he saw a white owl flying away. "Sit on the bush." Isto'-ega'i' 
leaned against the bush. Then the old woman said, "You are going to 
manage the fool-dance, good will come to you therefrom." Then she gave 
him the requisite instructions. Near the bush there was standing a man in 
dirty clothes, wearing a mask with eye-slits. "That is you, you will dress 
in this way." He looked at the figure. "Whenever there is a camp," she 
continued, "you can make the fool-dance. It looks dirty, but all the people 
enjoy it. If you fail to conduct it, you will not enjoy life long. Perform it 
at least once a year." He promised to obey. He went to a lodge about as 
large as the one now occupied by him. There was a stick planted in the 
center of the tent; it was decorated with red flannel and had deer-hoofs 
tied to it. He looked at it carefully. "Some Fools are going to come in; 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 03 

watch their performance." Then fourteen or fifteen Fools approached 
in .single file, each packing some meat. Isto'-ega"^^ noted all their actions. 
In obedience to his instructions, Ist(3'-ega"^ still conducts the ceremony, — 
in part by proxy, owing to his total blindness. At the proper time, he 
borrows a dance-lodge, which is put up by his wife. After the erection of 
the lodge, he invites an old man to his home, asking him to assist in the 
ceremony. This helper is paid for his services after the dance. Both the 
head-performer and his deputy betake themselves to the dance-lodge, where 
the latter makes masks for himself and his employer. These two masks 
differ from those of the other dancers. Next, the deputy goes around the 
camp, asking for canvas and old clothes. He returns to the master of the 
ceremonies, and makes masks for the prospective dancers. As yet, no one, 
as a rule, knows who is going to join; in some cases, however, the relatives 
of people who have recovered from serious sickness volunteer in conform- 
ity to a previous vow, and are accordingly chosen. On completion of the 
masks and the head-performer's garment, which consists of a woman's 
dress fringed at the bottom, the deputy dons the leader's dress and mask, 
puts a whistle in his mouth, takes a bow and two arrows in his left hand and 
the deer-hoof rattle in his right, and begins to walk around the camj). He 
summons people by pointing the rattle-staff at them ; sometimes he enters a 
lodge, sometimes he merely raises the door-flap. Some men join willingly, 
while others run away. But no one refuses outright after being pointed at, 
otherwise a misfortune would befall him or his family. While the deputy is 
going around, Isto'-ega"^ remains in the dance-lodge; if he were not blind 
he would summon the dancers himself, and his assistant would stay in the 
lodge. If any one declines to go, but wishes to avoid evil consecjuences, he 
gets some new cloth or some tobacco and takes this offering to the chief 
celebrant, explaining that he does not wish to join in the performance. 
The master of the ceremony then sends word to his associate that one of the 
elect has been excused and that an additional j^articipant is retjuired. ^Yhen 
a sufficient number of dancers have been designated, the deputy returns and 
informs the master what tribesmen have been chosen, lliere is no age 
limit, but older men once predominated, and formerly distinction in war 
seems to have led to a man's selection. 

The Fools inmiediately go to the dance-lodge to obtain their masks. 
The dress varies, but is supposed to be as odd as possible. I'he men nowa- 
days often make one legging of gunnysack and the other of an old slicker 
(oiled raincoat). When all have arrived, they rise, the master standing in 
the rear. The Fools form a circle around him, and dance up and down. 
Four times they dance while he sings, then Isto'-ega"^ led by his assistant, 
starts outdoors, followed by the Fools in single file. After walking some 



64 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\o\. W , 

distance, he halts, and his followers surround him to perform their dance. 
This is repeated four times. After the fourth dance, they ])roceed to a spot 
where a steer, representing a buffalo, of course, has been killed and is lying 
with its face to the south. Stealthily they disperse and sneak up to the 
steer, the master leading, his bow and arrows ready to shoot, while his fol- 
lowers are tiptoeing behind. The leader draws his bow as if to shoot, and 
blows his whistle. Then all the Fools fall back, some rolling over as if 
caught and felled to the ground. These men lie flat on the ground, then 
they gradually peej) up, rise, and again approach the steer on tiptoe. This 
time they get closer to the animal. The same proceedings are repeated. 
The third time they ci'eep still closer. The fourth time, when the master 
of ceremonies actually shoots his arrow, all run up and surroimd the buffalo. 
They dance four times as in their dance-lodge. The fourth time the head 
performer takes his deer-hoof rattle, and his followers range themselves in a 
row behind. He makes a motion as if to throw his rattle on the steer. The 
men all whistle. He repeats this four times, at last he actually throws the 
rattle. Though aimed at a distance of from twenty to twenty-five feet, the 
stick always falls in the proper position on the steer's back, and never rolls 
off. The master sings, the following being two specimen songs: 

Pte'he xo'dane i"da' 

Buffalo horn gray (i. e. a gray-horned buffalo) just now 
t'ewai'ahe en i^nowaji"' waku'dehe. 

I have killed, I went and stood there, I shot it. 

Tata'nga-ne wi^ya'ox hiya'eno, waga'x-idjeno. 

Buffalo this like the sun goes around, it has been knocked over. 

Ckca^i to'bagia' wawa'tcino^ nawa'bundo. 

Around four times they danced, making a dancing noise. 

Tata'nga-ne o'kca to'bagia^ nona^'wanmu-no^ 6'kca°. 

Buffalo this around four times they are stamping around. 

lya'jone yajo'bol ly'agica-bo'! 

Bone-whistles blow! Yell! 

All the Fools now seat themselves in a circle around the steer. The 
leader fills his pipe, and prays to the six cardinal directions, then smokes, and 
passes the pipe. When they are done smoking, the steer is butchered in the 
customary way, then there is another dance around the animal. Finally, 
each one packs a part of the meat. Paunches are filled with the bull's blood 
and suspended from the neck or attached to the belt of each member. Hav- 
mg packed the meat, they once more dance around the remains of the carcass, 
then they start back towards the dance-lodge. They are followed by a 



1909. 



Lowie, The Assiniboine. 



65 



laughing crowd. "When the spectators press too close on the performers, 
the latter scare them away by bespattering them with the blood from their 
pavniches. The people immediately fall back. After making the circuit 
of the camp, the procession approaches the lodge. On reaching the door, 
they turn to the left, walk around the tent once, then halt, and loosen the 
fastenings above the entrance. The leader blows his bone whistle, and three 
times pretends to throw his meat through the smoke-hole into the lodge. 
While he goes through these motions, his companions whistle. The fourth 
time he actually throws the meat. If he succeeds in throwing it in, he enters, 
and sits down. If he fails, he may also pass inside, but the meat is forfeited, 
for neither he nor any of the other members are allowed to pick it up, and it 
may be appropriated by any outsider. The members, one by one, go through 





A B 

Fig. 15 (50-7112). Fool-Dance Mask. Length, 43 cm. 

the same performance, and successively join their leader in the lodge. When 
all have assembled, they begin to undress, and then separate. The entire 
ceremony occupies the space of from two to four hours, but is said to have 
formerly lasted a whole day. Beginning from the time the dance-lodge is 
left, the performers are supposed to "talk backwards" (wi"tgo'gax ia'bi), 
that is, to express exactly the reverse of whatever meaning they wish to con- 
vey, whether speaking among themselves or to the spectators. Thus, if a 
man is thirsty, he must say, " I am not thirsty, I don't wish to drink." The 
headman is called wi^itgo'gagaje, the rank and file wi'^tgo'ga opa'je, the 
common term applied to crazy men being wi^tgo'tku. 

Plate III shows masked fool-dancers in characteristic positions. Three 
masks were purchased. For one of them (Fig. 15) two strips of canvas, 
about 43 cm. long and 38 cm. wide, were superimposed one upon the other, 
sewed together, and fringed at the top and sides. To the middle of either 



66 



Anthropological Papers American Mvseum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 




Fig. 16 (50-7114). 
Length, 45 cm. 



Fool-Dance Mask, Front. 



edge there is attached a tin disc about three inches in diameter, appar- 
ently representing an earring. The front of the mask is decorated with 

vertical lines of white clay and 
at either edge with a pair of 
irregular, approximately i)ar- 
allel curves, symmetrical with 
those on the 0])[)ositc edge. 
The ludicrously crook(>d nose 
is formed of cloth sewed to the 
face and enclosing a grass 
stuffing. There are very 
small eye-slits and also an 
opening for the mouth. The 
back of the mask lacks both 
the nose and the vertical clay 
decoration. The eyes are 
surrounded with symmetrical 
daubings of clay extending 
down the cheeks. Below the mouth-slit an elongated curve of clay extends 
from side to side, and below the top-seam there is an inverted crescent- 
shaped figure. Another mask (Figs. 16, 17) differs in several particulars. 
The nose is neither sewed on 
nor marked in any way, the 
parallel stripes are lacking on 
both sides, and colored deco- 
ration in red, blue, black and 
yellow takes the place of the 
white clay. In the front, a 
series of isosceles triangles 
differentiated by color and 
with bases coincident with 
the line of the top-seam are 
flanked by two blue rectang- 
ular crosses. 

Grass-dance. (Peju'-oiv- 
atcorPeji'mi^knafif/eo'watcy. 
This is regarded as the dance, 

in a modernized form, of the agi'tcita, or Soldier, organization, which is 
called mi^kna'nge (untranslated in this connection) .^ The drum used 




Fig. 17 (50-7114). 
Length, 45 cm. 



Fool-Dance Mask, Back. 



loins. 



1 Cf. De Smet, p. 1059. 

2 Riggs's Dictionary gives mi-hna-ka = to put in under tiie girdle; to wear rour.d the 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 67 

in this performance is made from a hollow log, decorated partly with 
red, and partly with blue, flannel, symbolizing wounds and slain enemies 
respectively; brass tacks are driven into the wood. The center of the drum- 
head is occupied by a yellow circle, the sun, outside of which a dark-blue 
circle, the sky, containing four red lines, is drawn. There are horse-tracks 
between the two circles. The red lines symbolize either horses or wounds. 
Of the drumsticks, four are of a ceremonial character. These are forked, 
and wrapped with beadwork for about half their length; at the end are tied 
white eagle feathers and hair from a horse's tail dyed in different colors 
corresponding to the color of horses stolen by the owner of the drum. Be- 
fore the commencement of the dance, the ceremonial drumsticks are handed 
to four distinguished men. The first man hits the drum once, and publicly 
disposes of some of his property. The other three honorary drummers 
follow suit. Then the four again hit the drum one after another, and are 
relieved by six actual incumbents wielding as many ordinary drumsticks. 

The ceremonial dress common to all members consists of a porcupine 
headdress, otherwise the costume of the rank and file may vary ad libitum. 
They commonly wear buckskin leggings with a fringe of weasel-skins or 
human hair. A few formerly bore shields with pictographic representations 
of their exploits. It is customary for a grass-dancer, to indicate his martial 
achievements in a definite way. If he has slain an enemy, he wears an eagle- 
feather. If the victim was a Sioux, a skunk-skin is sewed to the heel of the 
dancer's moccasin; two such skunk-skins denote two Sioux slain by the 
wearer. An X painted on the dancer's body, or — more distinctive still — 
an acute angle pointing upward with a small circle resting on the apex, 
represents a Avound. Some men put these designs on their shirts. The 
angular horseshoe design (an inverted U) indicates participation in a 
horse-raid, and may be repeated indefinitely in a vertical column, according 
to the number of expeditions. The representation of a pipe on the dancer's 
back shows that he has been captain of a successful war-expedition. Only 
the four head-dancers are distinguished by feather-belts, one of which, be- 
longing to the leader (ita^'tca), is dyed red. These officers are assisted by 
two "whippers." ^ 

When the leader decides on having a dance, he orders the crier to bid the 
people prepare a feast. It is absolutely indispensable to cook a dog for this 
entertainment, otherwise no dance is held.- The crier next calls the members 



1 In an account of the buffalo-hunt, two leaders and four criers are referred to. 

2 It is curious to note, in this connection, that the Stone5^s never kill dogs. Some time 
ago, I was told, a party of Dakota came to visit the Stoneys, and desired to kill some dogs for a 
feast, but their hosts would not permit it. In their disappointment, the Dakota made up a 
song, the words being: "Cu'nga waka^' wani'ndjatc" (There are no sacred dogs here). The 
Assiniboine, on the contrary, as noted by De Smet, p. 938, freely indulged in dog-feasts. As 
this is reported of the Yanktonai (Keating, I, 433) and other Dakota tribes, the Stoneys 
must have lost the custom during the recent period of separation. 



68 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xatural Histori/. [Vol. IV, 

of the society. This summons is repeated four times, and everyone is ex- 
pected to be present after the fourth proclamation. The last man to appear 
has a large bucket of food placed before him. He is obliged to eat up all the 
food on the spot. If he does not wish to do so, he must inform the four 
headmen, or the two whippers. He is then required to pay a forfeit, such 
as a blanket, to some old man or woman.^ Then the l)ucket is removed, 
and the food is served to other spectators. 

One of the performers gives up a blanket, on which the whippers spread 
the officers' feather-belts. The blanket is not reclaimed by its owner. The 
leaders seat themselves behind their belts. The bucket containing the dog- 
meat has been placed outside, near a large bowl. The singers begin to 
sing. At the fourth song, the officers rise, put on their belts, and dance 
around in a circle, moving towards the right. This is repeated three times. 
The fourth time the leader, standing near the bucket, shows how he used to 
dodge the missiles of the enemy. Finally, he touches the bucket, goes 
around in a circle and sits down, followed by his associates, who successively 
go through the same actions. One of the leaders rises. The whippers 
begin to dip up the dog-meat into the bowl with sticks the ends of which are 
wrapped with quill-work. The standing officer walks around, and selects 
eight distinguished warriors, — men who have been Avounded in battle or 
have scalped an enemy. The eight braves are seated in a row behind the 
pan. The whippers ladle out eight portions, — the four paws, the head, 
and three other pieces. The officer, taking up a long-handled wooden 
spoon decorated with feathers and horsehair at one end, approaches the 
drummers, who begin to sing. He then dances all alone. At the fourth 
dance he stops before the warriors. Now the eight portions are to be dis- 
tributed. The first brave selected is entitled to the head. The man with the 
belts takes the spoon, touches the dog's head, and brings it close to the 
warrior's mouth. The brave touches the food with his tongue or lips. In 
similar fashion the remaining portions are taken to the other warriors. If 
one of the eight has slept with any woman during the previous night, he must 
decline to touch the meat, or a misfortune would befall him the next day. 
The same taboo apj^lies to the drummers, but not to the dancers. The 
whippers also get a piece of dog, the officers waiting on them. Those who 
have not been obliged to decline, then eat, dropping bones into the bowl. A 
man waits on the ten eaters with a pipe, and each smokes in succession. The 
dog's skull-bones are kept, the other bones are thrown away.- The contents 



1 This was a custom of the Omaha Mandan feast, J. O. Dorse5% (a), 273; it is mentioned 
asan Assiniboine custom by Maximilian, I, p. 445. 

2 Some sort of ceremony with the dog-bones seems to have been common among the 
Dakota. Cf. Keating, I. p. 433, and Miss Fletcher, (b).' 



1909.] Lou'ie, The Assiniboine. 69 

of the other buckets are served to the rest of the people, then a dance starts, 
in which all may join. It is customary for the officers to give away their 
insignia. The chief looks about for a conspicuously brave man, seats him in 
his own place, unties his belt, and surrenders it to the prospective chief; the 
other leaders follow suit. Each recipient says, "In return for the belt, I 
shall give So-and-so a horse." A new man assumes the ownership of the 
pipe smoked at the ceremony, and the drum and drumsticks likewise change 
hands. The heralding, however, continues to be performed by the same 
functionary. 

Another dance follows. The man with the whistle blows it whenever 
the performers show signs of exhaustion, and they are obliged to continue. 
At last, some outsider, taking pity on the drooping dancers, approaches the 
drum, hits it with a stick, and retires. This act absolves the performers 
from continuing. When they have stopped, the outsider announces that he 
is going to give away a horse or a gun. A smoking-song is next started. 
Two women are engaged to help singing. Everyone seizes his pipe, and 
begins to smoke. There follows an intermission, during w^hich people are 
free to dance or cease dancing, as they please. The herald next approaches 
the dog's skull, points it towards the four quarters, and lays it down with the 
nose pointing east. The eight braves dance four times around the bones. ' 
After the fourth dance, the first one picks up the skull, and points it in the 
direction of the country where he accomplished a certain deed, of which he 
then recites the story, and finally lays it down. The second warrior picks 
it up, and goes through the same mode of procedure, which is likewise fol- 
lowed by the remaining six men. But if a man has had to decline to eat on 
account of recent sexual intercourse, he cannot himself lift the skull, but 
merely indicates the direction with his hand, whereupon one of the whippers 
points the skull for him. The last of the braves may throw the skull away. 
If at any time during the ceremony a feather, or any other part of the cere- 
monial raiment, falls to the ground, a man who has killed an enemy picks it 
up, and, before handing it to its owner, recites a war-story.^ 

Sometimes, a man publicly proclaims that he renounces his wife and that 
anyone so desiring may shake hands with him and take her for his own. 
In token of this act, he wears a square piece of buckskin with an aperture 
for the head. If, however, the divorce alters his mind at a later date and 
seeks a restitution of his marital rights, the mi'^kna'iige, at the next dance, 
force a woman's dress over him, call him a woman, and expel him from the 
society, though he is permitted to keep his wife. 

1 According to an oral communication by Mr. Radin, the taboo against a man's picking 
up his own feather at this dance occurs among the Winnebago. It is characteristic of the 
Omaha "Mandan feast." "If one of the guests lets fall anything by accident, he forfeits it 
and cannot take it up. Anyone else can appropriate it." (J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 273). Cf. 
also ibid., pp. 330-332, 353. 



70 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

The Soldiers liked to select well-to-do men for members of their society, 
— men who could substantially contribute to the indemnity awarded to 
pardoned offenders against the game-laws/ 

Other Dances. The no-flight dance (nampe'c owa'tc) is said to have 
originated with the Sioux. An Assiniboine was once captured by the Sioux. 
His friends thought he had been killed, but after a long time he returned 
and introduced the no-flight dance. According to another account, the 
dance was derived from the Xea'ktukta, an unidentified Plains tribe. A 
woman is also credited with having dreamt the dance. After giving the 
ceremony to the people, she told her son that her husband was going to be 
killed by the Sioux in the young man's presence. While the dance was 
being performed, she sang this song: — 

"Mi hi'nknane tewa'xinax, epa'he-jeha'^\ watci'figec epa'he; 

My husband I love, I say just now, I don't want him, I say; 

(i. e., apparently, "I loved my husband, but now I don't want him). Her 
husband was killed, as she had predicted. The regalia of this dance con- 
sisted of rawhide rattles decorated with feathers and flannel, two spears 
wrapped with otter-skin, and buffalo-horn headdresses. There were some- 
times as many as thirty members. In battle, they were never supposed to 
flee; if they attempted to do so, their leaders could kill them. The spear- 
bearers were obliged to plant the sj^ears in the ground and thereafter were 
not permitted to abandon them. However, if another man removed the 
spear for them, the officers were absolved from this obligation. 

After dreaming the ceremony a number of times, an Assiniboine named 
Butt-Horn and living at Ft. Peck is said to have started the fox-dance 
(toka'n - owa'tc). The dance was performed several times every summer. 
There were four leaders (i"ta"'tcambi), two whippers (wintca'-gax a'bi = 
them they whip), and an indefinite number of ordinary members. The 
leaders wore a red-fox skin around their necks, and a cloth headband with a 
strip of a fox-tail hanging down at the side and the upper jaw and nose of a 
fox sewed to it. They had hooked spears wrapped with fox-skin. The 
whippers bore whips decorated with fox-skins, and were supposed to touch 
the legs of the performers with them to 'make them dance. The step itself 
was like that of the modern squaw-dance, the performers gliding around in a 
circle in accompaniment to drums. After the termination of the dance, 
the four headmen took the lead, walked once around the lodge, and then 
passed out in single file. They walked around the camp, halting four times. 



1 Cf. p. 36. 

^ J. O. Dorsey's Tuka'la? Cf. Dorsey. (a), pp. 354-35.5. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 71 

and at each stop went through the same performance. Then they separated. 
The leader's song was as follows: — 

Tato'u^yene waci'wal'yeno Maiika' oxno'ga 

By these four directions I guide myself. The earth holes 

yu'han wacrwai'yeno. ]\Ia"ka' tcoga'n yange'nu". 

all I guide myself (?). The earth center of holes are dug (?). 

Mafika' tcoga'n xoga' ta'nga awa'makinag, 

In the center of the earth badger big is watching over me, 

i^yange'nu". 

all holes are dug (?). 

]\Iiye' wagi'atca ade'-waVeno, hotu'mbino. 

I the Thunder-bird I have for a father, the thunder is rolling. 

Xoga' tanga ade'-wa\yeno mi-hoku'n, awa'makna^gino. 

Badger big I have for a father under me, he is watching me. 

The officers of the society met before the dance. At this council, some 
might decide to give away their regalia to one of the rank and file. In this 
case, each one announced to his colleagues to what member he wished to 
present his insignia. This must be kept secret for that day. The next day 
the officers invited the other members. If one of these had accidentally dis- 
covered the leader's choice, he did not appear at the assembly. The dance 
was performed in the usual way, but after a certain length of time the 
whippers instructed the drummers to sing a certain song indicative of what 
was going to happen. The whippers stood at the entrance and declared 
that no one must leave the lodge. All the leaders danced. Each of the 
abdicants then selected and announced his successors, presenting him with 
the insignia of the higher degree. The recipients oifered tanned robes, 
horses, saddles, etc. to their electors. By giving away their paraphernalia, 
the officers merely resigned their degree, not their membership in the society. 
No initiation fee was required of men joining as ordinary members, but 
usually only men of wealth were solicited to participate. 

Regarding the aju-'owatc (crazy-dance?), there are only two Assinil)oine 
living who can give first-hand information. The dance is said to have 
originated among the Crow Indians, having been introduced a long time 
ago by Kari'ota^nga, a half-Crow and half-Assiniboine. The significance 
of the word "aju"' is somewhat obscure; it was distinctly explained to have 
no reference to any such clownish proceedings as were characteristic of the 
fool-dance. The members wore a breechclout and belt, brass armlets and 
bracelets, and a bead or bone necklace. Each one carried a quiver on his 
back, and held a doubly bent bow in his left hand and an arrow pointed 
downward in his right. Whenever the members desired to have a dance, 



72 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

they notified the leader, and if he and two whippers consented the dance was 
held. Hand-drums were used. The men danced around in a circle. 
While dancing, one of them suddenly took his arrow and shot it so that it 
fell right among the crowd, but no one was ever hit. There was no age 
qualification for admission to the society. At one of their meetings, the 
members discussed the desirability of candidates. Men who were known 
as misers were never chosen. If a man had been elected, he was summoned 
to the lodge, and gave away robes and horses. The dance was occasionally 
performed in the daytime, but more frequently at night. Late at night, 
after the conclusion of the performance, any dancer could visit a fellow- 
member's lodge and sleep with his wife, but this license did not extend beyond 
the limits of the brotherhood. According to one Indian authority, the aju-' 
dancers exercised police functions. Whenever a man had prematurely 
startled the game in a tribal hunt, the aju-'dancers would take their guns, 
go out together, and shoot up into the air to indicate their intentions. Then 
they surrounded the culprit's lodge, tore it up, and kill(>d his horses and dogs. 
Whether my informant confounded the aju-'dancers with the Soldiers, 
whether they shared the tribal functions specified with other organizations, 
or possibly stood in a peculiar relation to the Soldiers, is by no means clear. 
The icka"' xoatci'hi (translated by my interpreter "dirty-dance")^ was 
dreamt, apparently by an Assiniboine. The master of ceremonies and the 
singers are men, but the dancers are women. Once a year, late in the 
spring, the headmen summoned the members to a large lodge, where they 
were entertained and told that they were to dance. They went home and 
put on their best clothes, but their costume does not seem to have been of a 
definitely prescribed character. Sometimes the performance was gone 
through in behalf of a sick person, and in any case a sacrifice of calico to the 
Great Spirit is said to have been essential. The dance-lodge was made by 
uniting two ordinary lodges. The leader had a rattle, and api)ointed from 
two to four helpers to drum and sing. The women stood uj) and merely 
moved up and down in their places, without changing their position in the 
circle. When through dancing, they filed out of the lodge and ranged them- 
selves in a horizontal row, in the center of which stood the men. They 
walked a certain distance, performed their ceremony, then proceeded a little 
further, repeating the dance four times altogether. After the fourth time, 
they separated. The women participating wore necklaces, and braided their 
hair like men. The master of ceremonies wore a sleeveless shirt, and painted 
his arms and legs with white clay. Another informant stated that a woman 
was master of ceremonies. She would go to the dance-lodge of one of the 



1 Said to mean literally "mentula erecta.' 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 73 

men's societies, give them a feast, and in return bid them select so many 
women to join the dance. The next day the men went around the camp, 
selecting women, while the leader stayed in her own dance-lodge. 

Of the songs, which were often of obscure tenor, only the following brief 
specimens could be recorded. 



"Ha'di-wo, 


mi da'nkci 


cu'iiga kiyux'e 


enitce'-no. 


Get up, 


younger sister. 


dog copulating 


you look like. 


Ha'di-wo. 








Kise. 
To'kia 


ama'yanatce. 


mi ta'iikci 


tca'nde 


Whither you 


are taking me, 


my younger sister's 


heart 


ci'jatce. 








is bad. 









(This was explained to be a speech to the spirit: "My younger sister is 
grieving, because you are taking me away.") 

The Peha"'ri'^ (Brown-Crane ?) society had a large dance-lodge perma- 
nently placed within the camp-circle. There were four officers, two (wintca'- 
bas) bearing war-clubs, and the two others carrying long flat-pipes. After 
dancing within the lodge, the performers, grouped in the shape of a horse- 
shoe, proceeded around the camp, halting four times and going through their 
performance each time, whereupon they returned to their lodge, and dis- 
banded. The pipes were presented to brave and kind men. Two brief 
songs were given as follows : — 



Wamnu'ckane ogi'nebino 


gawi^'raM^ino. 


Bugs they are hunting for 


in a circle. 


Peha"'rina o'tatca'iige jeha'^ 


yuka'mbino. 


Brown-cranes' big chiefs now 


there are some, 



The buffalo-dance (tataiiga watci'bi) is said to have been derived from 
the Xea'ktukta tribe. Before starting a dance, one man was appointed to 
gather up the members' headdresses. These consisted of the skin of a 
buffalo-head with the horns and nose left on and a stuffing of grass. Two 
tents were joined to form the dance-lodge, outside of which all the head- 
dresses were tied to a big pole. A feast was prepared inside, and after the 
entertainment the dancers put on their costume, namely, flannel clouts 
decorated with beaded buffalo-hoof designs, and the horned headgear. 
Four leaders were chosen for distinction in war, such as having been wounded, 
having killed an enemy while wearing a buffalo headdress, etc. One of these 



74 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\o\. IV, 

chiefs had one of the horns painted red, and tied to it an eagle-feather. If 
one of them had carried a shield in battle, he displayed it now; if anyone 
had killed an enemy with a spear, he held it in his hand during the ceremony. 
There were four singers Avithout headdresses, who beat hand-drums while 
the performers danced in the lodge. After a while, one of the four chiefs 
rushed out of the lodge and ran off some distance, followed at intervals by 
the rest of the dancers and by the four singers. The last one to follow was a 
boy called Buffalo-Boy, who wore a buft*alo-calf headdress. They trotted 
to the first halting-place and performed their dance there. Here a recital 
of martial deeds took place. As a token of bravery, one of the horns of a 
headdress might be painted white. Each man carried a muzzle-loader, 
loaded with powder, and while dancing they shot at one another. At a 
second site, the same performance was repeated.^ 

In the whelp- (cungcindja) dance there are foin- leaders, chosen for brav- 
ery, and a crier. ^Yhen these agreed to have a dance, the members were 
called together. All painted their bodies red. The badge of the society 
was a wolf-skin worn around the neck. For decoration, ])orcui)ine quill- 
work was placed around the wolf's eyes, the paws were wrapped with flannel, 
and to the jaw was attached a buckskin fringe. Four drummers, with 
hand-drums, sat in the center, and the performers danced around them. 

In the duck-dance (Paru'^'taje watcl'bl) there were four leaders, each 
bearing a flattened stick about three feet long, which was painted yellow 
and fringed with feathers. The handle was carved into a round knob. 
A similar mace was borne by the crier. The crier's duty was to announce 
to the members that a dance would be held on a certain afternoon or evening. 
A dance-lodge was erected, the jierformers dressed up within, then filed out 
of the lodge, and performed their dance outdoors. In marching out, the 
leaders preceded the rank and file, and the drummers constituted the rear. 
They went around the camp-circle, halted four times, returned to their 
starting-point, and disbanded. New members were selected by the leaders; 
instead of exacting initiation payments, the old members presented gifts to 
the novices. 

Besides the above-mentioned dances, one informant was able to recol- 
lect the names of a considerable number of additional ceremonies without 
being in a condition to give further information concerning them. The 
names of these dances were:— Cu'nga-dju'ka (little-dog); te'xoxi" (?); 
sisa'nin (one-foot dance); kari-^'yuha' (crow-owner); kaxo ' kona'gitc-ra 
(crow-dance); kakme'si (striped-dance); sami-^'jia (blackening-dance) ; 



I do not find it definitely stated in my notes that there were four open-air performances, 
but from analogy this seems exceedingly probable. 
^ Of a coyote, wolf, etc. 



1909.] Loivie, The Assiniboine. 75 

i'^wa'gitc (circle-dance); cunko-'kola-gitcra ^ (big-horse dance) tantcu''^- 
watc (dance without blankets) ; ha'^'watc (night-dance). The origin tale of 
a "Big Dog" society is recounted as part of a logically quite unconnected 
story (p. 223). 

The Age-Societies of the Plains Indians. 

The age-societies of the Plains Indians have repeatedly formed the sub- 
ject of theoretical discussion. Schurtz - treats them as representatives of an 
older genuine age-class system based solely on the affinity of age-mates dis- 
playing their Geselligkeitstrieh, but latterly modified by the influence of chiefs 
and police bodies and transformed into a type of organization intermediary 
between that of age-classes and of secret societies. While Schurtz starts 
from man's instinct of sociability and the natural sympathy of coevals, 
Webster ^ develops social organizations from the tribal initiation ceremonies. 
At first, the initiated men form a distinct class opposed to woman and the 
uninitiated of their own sex. With the centralization of executive power, 
there arise, on the basis of the puberty institutions, secret societies of limited 
membership charged with political and judicial functions. At a higher 
stage, the difficulty of maintaining the secrecy of the societies may lead to 
their collapse or degeneration into social clubs, such as the North American 
age-societies. A detailed criticjue of these opinions is not necessary. Un- 
derlying both Schurtz's and Webster's theories is the belief in a law of social 
evolution, by which phenomena, in remote areas can be psychologically 
equated and stages preceding an observed social form can be historically 
reconstructed. In spite of occasional glimpses of the truth that diffusion of 
ceremonial features has occurred, the standpoint of both writers is essentially 
unhistorical, and the problems which really develop from a comparative 
survey of the data escape their attention. The defects of this method have 
been admirably exposed in Father Schmidt's review of Webster's book.^ 
Quite different in character from the works mentioned above, Professor 
Kroeber's brief paper on The Ceremonial Organization of the Plains Indians 
of North America ^ is based entirely on empirical data, and will be referred to 
in connection with the several points dealt with in the following pages. 

1 The word "koua"' is the only one in which I occasionally thought I heard an Z-sound at 
Ft. Belknap instead of the customary Yankton-Assiniboine n. — This society seems to have 
been distinct from the Horse societj' already mentioned. 

2 See Bibliography. 

3 See Bibliography. 

1 Anthropos, 1909, p. 537. 
* Kroeber (c). 



76 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. TV, 

One of the principal difficulties encountered in a tliscussion such as that 
contemplated is the necessity of applying logically rigorous definitions to the 
highly variable and comi)lex j)henomena under investigation and the in- 
adequacy of the designations which have been sanctioned by common usage. 
The term "age-society" forms a striking illustration of this point. Jf 
dependence of membership on age is the criterion of an age-society, the 
feasting organizations of the Omaha were genuine age-societies. There was 
indeed no singing or dancing, nor any serious function to perform; but men 
of mature age, young men, and youths from seventeen to nineteen met 
separately for a social gathering.^ Yet, with the exception of Schurtz, who 
regards these organizations as vestigial representatives of some mythological 
organization of loftier character, ethnological writers have ignored these 
Omaha associations in their treatment of age-societies. On the other hand, 
nearly every American ethnographer assumes the essential likeness of the 
Cheyenne military societies and the Arapaho age-societies, though the former 
are in no way dependent vipon age. Kroeber, indeed, rec-ognizes, and even 
emphasizes, this fact, but this does not prevent him from treating the Chey- 
enne associations as representatives of the same type of ceremonial organiza- 
tion. The p.sychological reason for this attitude is quite clear. The current 
conception of age-societies, based on the data recorded by Maximilian and 
other travelers and never clearly formulated, involved from the beginning 
elements w^hich have no relation whatsoever to the qualifications for admis- 
sion. These additional elements seem so different from the features of the 
Omaha feasting corporations and seem to be so closely related, both histori- 
cally and otherwise, to features of the Cheyenne military organizations that 
the former are instinctively relegated to another class, while the latter are put 
into the same category. But this mode of procedure is decidedly arbitrary. 
The inconsistency developing therefrom is well illustrated in Professor 
Kroeber's paper. Kroeber dichotomizes the organizations of the Plains 
Indians into religious fraternities based on community of supernatural ex- 
periences and age-societies together with what he considers cognate forms of 
association. The former are "w^hatever other features they may possess, 
primarily associations of shamans, and are at bottom thoroughly different in 
nature from societies w^hose membership Avas dependent upon age, purchase, 
or simple admission, but never upon individual supernatural experiences, 
and of which several w^ere usually combined into a series through which the 
mdividual passed consecutively It is very probable that in some in- 
stances in the Plains area the two classes of religious societies merged into 
one another; but their essential difference, and their distinctness, in the 



1 J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 342. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. ~~ 

great majority of cases, must be clearly kept in mind if confusion as to the 
true character of each is to be avoided." So far as the first of these state- 
ments is concerned, it would obviously be equally justifiable to separate 
from all others those societies based on purchase or simple admission. The 
assumption that the qualifications for membership are a surer index of the 
essential character of a society, viewed as a whole, than "whatever other 
features they may possess" must be rejected. Just as it is not permissible 
to treat ritualistic myths as a distinct class of tales if they merely give a 
ritualistic setting to incidents constituting ordinary folk-tales, so it must not 
be assumed that societies based on an age-qualification, or supernatural 
revelations, are thereby fundamentally different from all others. Indeed, 
Kroeber himself recognizes this in his comparison of the Cheyenne and 
Arapaho organizations. If resemblances between these societies justifv 
the assumption of a close relationship, then the "religious" societies of other 
Plains tribes, so far as they betray features similar to those of age-societies, 
cannot be barred from the discussion. 

The real stumbling-block in our path is the current conviction that our 
provisional concepts and classifications already exhaust the significance of 
the phenomena dealt with. The problem, what may be at bottom the nature 
of such complexes as the sun-dance or the age-societies, is meaningless. 
Ignorant of the actual history of the several sun-dances, we are unable to 
determine the original meaning of the ceremony that might otherwise be 
considered as the first combination of sun-dance elements deserving the 
name, and we soon find it extremely difficult to determine what is to be 
considered characteristic of the sun-dance at all. If self-torture and a four 
days' fast combined with fixed gazing are considered essential, the Young 
Dog secret society of the Pawnee ^ is a form of the sun-dance. Similarly, the 
termination of the tribal hunt of the Omaha, involving the ceremonial selec- 
tion, felling and transportation of a sacred tree,^ shows the occurrence of a 
highly distinctive sun-dance element in a novel setting. The spectacular 
torture features are found to be merely the normal forms of hd^mdepi, — ■ the 
quest of supernatural power.' It is obviously of little moment whether we 
call a certain combination of elements a sun-dance; the essential task is to 
show the distribution of the several clearly defined elements observable in 
sun-dances, to examine their combinations in the tribes discussed, and to 
correlate them, if possible, with other features of tribal culture. Applying 
this method to the age-societies, we may single out for discussion the age 
class system, determine its distribution, and investigate what features are 

1 Grinnell, (b), p. 27, et seq. 

2 J. o. Dorsey, (a), p. 297. 

3 J. O. Dorsey, (b), p. 436-437. 



78 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

loined with it. Then we may consider in a strictly parallel way sudi of 
these correlated elements as stand out with sufficient clearness to warrant 
the assumption that each goes back to a single starting-point. 

Beginning with the age-system, we may, for our purposes, define an age- 
societv as one of a progressive series of ceremonial organizations, admission 
into each of which is partly or wholly dependent on age. This definition 
eliminates, as not homologous, the feasting corporations of the Omaha. 
It eliminates also the societies of the Cheyenne, Crow and Kiowa. So far 
as the Cheyenne organizations are concerned, it has already been indicated 
that age-qualifications are lacking. For the Crow, INIaximilian gives a list 
of dancing associations, but without age specification.' In 1907, 1 was 
unable to find a trace of age-societies, nor do I find any reference to such 
organizations in Curtis's recent work. According to the statement of one 
of my informants — contradicted by another — the Big Dogs were all old, 
but as the other three Crow organizations were apparently coordinate with 
them and required no age-qualification, the fact is not significant for the 
present discussion. According to Curtis,' Crow boys from twelve to fifteen 
organized societies in imitation of those of the men. The Rabbit organiza- 
tion of the Kiowa is of similar character.^ These are undoubtedly spurious 
age-societies.* They show in an instructive way how ceremonial perform- 
ances may become associated with a natural age-class, but in both cases the 
progressive series of societies is lacking. In the Assiniboine societies, the 
element of age is not of primary significance ; so far as it enters at all, it is a 
function of the requirement that wealthy, and therefore generally older, 
members were preferred as candidates. Two dances of the Omaha, the 
Mandan and the Tukala dance, seem at first sight to be genuine age-cere- 
monies, the former being performed solely by mature men, while the Tukala 
is the corresponding dance of the boys.' The performance of the boys may, 
however, be quite naturally explained on the same principle as the Kiowa 
rabbit-dance. Moreover, we are told that both dances were derived directly 
from the Ponka, and more remotely from the Dakota. As age-societies 
have not been noted among the Dakota, it is extremely unlikely that the two 
societies of the Omaha are degenerate remnants of a more elaborate age- 
society system. 

When the imposing array of tribes usually cited as possessing age-societies 
is carefully sifted, there remain, accordingly, the Mandan, Hidatsa, Arikara, 

1 Maximilian, I, p. 401. For some reason, this passage is omitted from the American 
edition. 

2 Curtis, IV, p. 27. 

3 Mooney, (a), p. 989; Handbook p. 862. 

< Spurious, of course, only if we adhere to the definition given. 
* J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 354. 



1909.] Louie, The Assinihoine. 79 

Blaekfoot, Arai)aho, and Gros Ventre. These — and only these — tribes 
are definitely known to possess ceremonial grou])S ranged in a hierarchical 
series, position in which is somehow dei)en(lent on age. That this age 
factor is not the sole element of importance had already been noted by 
Schnrtz, but it was Professor Kroel)t'r who clearly pointed ont the varying 
significance of this element in different tribes, — especially among the 
Arapaho and Gros Ventre as opposed to the remaining tribes. Conditions 
among the latter may become clear from an account of the Arikara system. 
From Brackenridge we glean the following data: "They are divided into 
different bands or classes ;j, that of the ])heasant, which is composed of the 
oldest men; that of the bear, the buft'alc^ the elk, the dog, etc. Each of 
these has its leader, who generally takes the name of the class, exclusively. 
Initiation into these classes, on arriving at the proper age, and after having 
given proofs of being worthy of it, is attended with great ceremony. The 
band of dogs is considered the most brave and effective in war, being com- 
posed of young men under thirty." ^ ^laximilian lists the Bears (old men); 
iNIad Wolves; Foxes; Mad Dogs; ]\Iad Bulls; and Soldiers.- Two dift'er- 
ent lists are furnished bv Clark: ^ 



1. 


Young Boys, or Foxes. 


1. 


Foxes. 


2. 


Young Dogs. 


2. 


Thief society. 


3. 


Big Young Dogs. 


3. 


Basket society. 


4. 


Strong Hearts. 


4. 


Shaved-Head. 


5 


Bulls. 


5. 


Big Dog. 


6. 


Crows. 


6. 


Bulls. 






7. 


Crows. 






8. 


Black-Mouths 



The Crows were composed of all the old men who had passed through the 
previous bands. "For police purposes there was a band of soldiers or 
black-mouths. These were appointed for this special purpose and taken 
from the above-named bands. They blackened the lower part of their 
faces as a badge of their authority. These several bands were, it would 
seem, organized mainly for social pleasure, such as dancing, etc., and the 
members passed through the grades by purchase. As a rule, each member 
had to pass regularly through each band, but if ambitious for sudden promo- 
tion, say from the Big Young Dog to the Strong Heart band, it could be 
accomplished by purchase and temjiorarily giving his wife to the embraces 
of the chief of the band, should the young man have one. The young man 
was then considered as a son, and could, if he went to war, take one of the 



1 Brackenridge, p. 155. 

2 Maximilian, II, p. 240. 

3 Clark, pp. 44, 355. 



80 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

names of his new father. If not married at the time of adoption, he could 
not marry into the family of his adopted father." ^ Conflicting as the several 
statements are, the fact stands out clearly that men normally ascended from 
one rung to the next in the ladder of ceremonial preferment, but that the 
element of purchase was sufficiently strong to enable men to advance beyond 
their age-mates on offering suitable payment. The individual character 
of promotion among the three Village tribes is brought out, in another 
connection, by ]Maximilian: "If a boy desires to enter the first band in order 
to become a man, he goes to a member of it, addresses him by the appellation 
of father, and endeavors to purchase the rank, the dance, the song and the 
war pipe belonging to it for certain articles." Essentially the same condition 
of affairs prevails among the Blackfoot. There are age-classes, but entrance 
into a given society is purchased individually,- so that, as Schurtz observes, 
the upper classes may form an aristocratic social stratum, which the poor 
reach but slowly, if at all, while others advance to it with relative rapidity. 

From this type of age-societies, Professor Kroeber very properly distin- 
guishes the system of the Arapaho and Gros Ventre, which rests on the 
automatic and collective graduation of age-mates. "The societies of the 
bayaa"wu are strictly not associations of men, but classes or divisions to 
which men belong at certain ages." ^ Nevertheless, as Kroeber points out 
elsewhere, the element of purchase is not lacking, for the older men directing 
candidates for a higher society expect a fee from their ceremonial "grand- 
children." There are other features, not emphasized by Kroeber in his 
general paper, but recorded in his monographs, which show the influence 
of factors other than age in both tribes. For the highest Arapaho society, 
age was indeed the necessary, but not an adequate, condition of membership, 
which was determined by the possession of one of seven sacred tribal bags. 
The seven old men, then, while undoubtedly connected with the age-class 
system, do not form an age-class in the same sense as the lower societies. 
Among the Gros Ventre, coevals shared the same ceremony, but performed 
it in distinct companies preserving their individuality throughout their 
ceremonial existence and bearing names which resembled the nicknames 
of camp-circle divisions and were independent of the dances performed.'* 
The age-classes therefore, differ from those of other tribes in not forming 
ceremonial units. In short, it might be said that Mandan, Arikara, Hidatsa, 
Blackfoot, Arapaho, and Gros Ventre all approach, but none attain to, a 
pure age-system. 



1 Ibid., p. 44. 

2 Grinnell, (c), p. 222. 

3 Kroeber, (a), p. 156. 
* Kroeber, (b), p. 232. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. gj 

It is perfectly clear that the system of age-societies — quite irrespective 
of the ceremonial peculiarities of the single age-societies in each tribal series 
and of their functional aspect — must have developed from a single place 
of origin. This view is confirmed by the fact that, except among the Arikara, 
there is noted in every tribe at least one women's society affiliated with the 
age-class series.^ A system of so marked a character and restricted to so 
small a number of tribes, all of them in intimate cultural contact with one 
another, cannot have arisen independently in each instance. Tiie first 
question that arises is where this system originated. Professor Kroeber's 
answer that it probably spread from the ^"illage group cannot be disproved, 
but it must be remembered that he includes the Kiowa, Cheyenne and Crow 
in his discussion, so that his problem is rather different from ours. His 
reason for conceiving the Village group as the place of origin is that all the 
other tribes show a closer relationship in their age-societies to the Village 
people than to other tribes. From our point of view, however, the three 
tribes mentioned cannot be considered at all. That the Gros Ventre and 
Arapaho systems are merely differentiations of one archetype is perfectly 
clear. The Blackfoot show similarities to both the Village and the Arapaho- 
Gros Ventre groups, but there seems to be no great preponderance of evi- 
dence in favor of closer connection with the former. While the relative 
importance of the purchase factor allies them with the Alandan and Hidatsa, 
the existence of but a single women's society is a feature shared with the 
Arapaho, while the Blackfoot differ from both groups in apparently lacking 
the ceremonial surrender of the tyro's wife. But even if the Blackfoot have 
been primarily influenced by the Village tribes, the question proposed 
remains unsolved. It narrows down to whether the system of the Arapaho 
with its approximation to a rigid age-classification is a logical elaboration 
of the institution as found among the Villagers, or whether the latter is a 
degenerate form of the purer age-class system, .-l priori, both suppositions 
seem ecjually probable. 

Hitherto, the age-factor has been considered by itself. It seems how- 
ever, extremely probable that, if a certain tribe had developed an age- 
society system, a neighboring tribe would not borrow solely the abstract 
idea of classifying ceremonial groups, but would adopt the ceremonial divi- 
sions and activities as well. We must therefore compare the component 
societies of the several orders. Unfortunately, the practical difficulties of 
this task, owing to the scantiness of our information, are well-nigh insuper- 



1 In his general paper, Kroeber stated that women's societies had not been recorded among 
the Blackfoot ; doubtless Wissler's account (See Bibliography) was not accessible to him at the 
time of writing. The Arikara, of course, probably had a women's society which escaped the 
attention of the observers. 



82 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

able. Taking the societies singly, we must again conceive each as a com- 
plex of elements, some of which may have been derived from one source, 
while others were conceivably diffused from another. To ec|uate societies, 
therefore, on the basis of their names — often inadeciuately translated — is 
a hazardous undertaking. The fifth dance of the Gros A entre, for example, 
is called nana"naha"w", a term generally translated "soldiers' lodge." '■ 
It is extremely doubtful whether this body was at all related to the Soldier 
organization of the Village tribes. Functionally, it was probably not related, 
for we are not told that police duties, such as those assigned to the Soldiers 
of the ]\Iandan, devolved on its members. Similarly, it would be rash to 
consider the Piegan Soldier band homologous with its ^Nlandan namesake. 
Among the Piegan, the Braves were the police force par excellence, and the 
Soldier organization, though obsolete for many years, must have been a 
distinct body, for its chief occupied a separate lodge in the inner camp- 
circle." We do feel safe in identifying the Gros Ventre nana"naha"w" and 
the Arapaho hinanaha"w"^, because we know the linguistic and cultural 
relationship of these tribes and recognize in these native terms merely dialectic 
variations ; because we find a great similarity in the general structure of their 
age-class system, and because the societies in question occupy the same posi- 
tion in their respective orders. As corroborative evidence, we discover that 
both societies are connected with the buffalo. We are thus justified in 
assuming that the organizations had a conunon origin and that whatever 
differences occur are due to later differentiation, or to the disappearance of 
earlier features. The purely ceremonial coincidences would not have been 
convincing, but with our knowledge of extraneous data we can conceive 
the historical evolution of the two societies from a single prototype. Our 
knowledge of tribal relationships again aids us in accounting for one of the 
principal differences between the Arapaho and the Gros Ventre systems: 
the presence of a fly-dance among the Gros Ventre. This ceremony, said 
to have been instituted by a mosquito, forms the lowest of the Gros Ventre 
divisions. Quill-wrapped hoops carried on sticks constituted the sole 
regalia of the participants. The members imitated mosquitoes, pursuing 
people to prick them with cactus-spines and sharp claws. Now, INIaxi- 
milian * notes a Mosquito society forming the lowest of the Blackfoot organi- 
zations. The members imitated mosquitoes, biting, pinching or otherwise 
maltreating their fellow-tribesmen, and wore eagle-claw wristlets for badges. 
In view of the contiguity of the Gros Ventre and Blackfoot and of culture- 



' Kroeber, (b), p. 258. 

2 Grinnell, (c), pp. 221, 225. 

* Kroeber, (b), p. 258; (a), p. 206. 

* Maximilian I, p. 577. 



1909.1 



Lome, The Assinibome. 



83 



transferences which have certainly taken place between them, we may 
reasonably infer that the Gros ^^entre adopted their fly-dance from the 
Blackfoot. 

It is very rarely that we find such clear testimony to the community of 
origin of similarly named societies. On the other hand, it is very likely that 
some societies bearing different names were fundamentally related. This 
may account, to some extent, for the number of reported organizations 
peculiar to single tribes. Collating on the basis of names the societies in 
cjuestion as far as they occur in more than one tribe, we obtain the following 
result: 



Mandan 


HiDATSA 


Arikara 


PiKGAN 


Arapaho 


Gros Vkntre 




Kit-foxes 


Foxes 


Kit-foxes 


Kit-foxes 


Kit-foxes 








Mosquitoes 




Flies 


Ravens 


Ravens 


Crows 


Ravens 






Half-Shorn 
Heads 


Half-Shorn 
Heads 










Foolish 
Dogs 


Crazy Dogs 


Mad Dogs 


Crazy Dogs 


Crazy Lodge 


Crazy Lodgs 


Dogs (?) 


Small Dogs 


Young Dogs 








Old Dogs 


Dogs 
Enemies 


Big 
Young Dogs (?) 


Dogs 


Dogs 


Dogs 


Soldiers 


Soldiers 


Braves (?) 
Soldiers (?) 






Buffaloes 


Bulls 


Mad Bulls 


Bulls 







Making due allowance for the imperfections of such a table, we are never- 
theless obliged to attach considerable significance to the parallels encoun- 
tered. This significance is enhanced by the fact — emphasized by Professor 
Kroeber — that while the relative position of the single societies is far from 
uniform, similarly named societies nevertheless frequently have about the 
same place in their respective orders. In order to bring home the transfor- 
mations which have taken place, it is well to emphasize, by some concrete 
examples, the fact that this rule only approximately fits the facts. The Kit- 



84 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

fox society is the first preliminary organization of the Arapaho, but ranks 
third in the Gros Ventre series; the biitaha»\vii forms the second lodge of 
the Arapaho and probably the sixth of the Gros Ventre.^ In Maximilian's 
Blackfoot list, the Dogs are the young unmarried men, while Grinnell 
describes them as old men." But in spite of these differences even between 
the most closely related tribes, it seems on the whole most plausible to assume 
that the age-class system was adopted by the borrowing tribes as a whole 
and that the single societies were modified i)artly by the pre-existing cere- 
monial conceptions of the borrowers, and partly by unique historical con- 
ditions.^ 

This conclusion seems to justify the separation of ag(>-s()cieties from other 
forms of organization. But the cpu'stion arises whether age-societies form a 
distinct class irrespective of their being graded, that is, whether age-societies 
conform to a fairly definite ceremonial tyi)e differing from that of ungraded 
societies. 

Turning to this phase of the prol)lem, we find among the Arapaho only 
four societies that may he properly grouped together. "The four cere- 
monies from the first to the fourth dance. . . .constitute a well-defined group 
with constant analogies. In all of them the main l)ody of participants are 
called na9an\, which is about ecjuivalent to 'rank and file.' Above these are 
the honorary degrees, which range in numlier from one in the third to five 
in the second dance. The number of dancers is fixed for each degree, but 
varies, according to the degree and the ceremony, from one to four. The 
participants in each dance are instructed either singly or in groups, and 
receive their regalia from older men who have gone through the ceremony 
and are called the dancers' grandfathers. These men again, and the entire 
ceremony as a whole, are under the direction of the seven old men constitut- 
ing the sixth society." ■* The Kit-fox and Star societies really stand outside 
the series, because they lack prescribed regalia, degrees and ceremonial 
grandfathers. The fifth and sixth dances are likewise lacking in regalia 
and degrees; and while the members of the fifth perform a dance, this 
element is not found at all in the highest lodge. It is therefore not possible 
to speak of the functions and ceremonial characteristics of the Arapaho 
age-societies as if these were uniform: the four societies just mentioned are 
specially related to the four remaining societies solely through the fact that 
all are ranged in a progressive series and that all bear the impress of certain 



1 Kroeber, (b), p. 230. 

2 Maximilian, I, p. 577. Grinnell. (c), p. 221. 

3 I am here thinking of such transformations — passing to tribes without age-societies — 
as resulted from the sudden wholesale entrance of a Cheyenne camp-circle section into a single 
warrior organization (Mooney, (c), pp. 406-407). 

4 Kroeber, (a), p. 155. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. §5 

specifically tribal ceremonial notions. Thus, we find each dance referring 
symbolically to some animal, and each is a votive performance contingent 
on the pledger's — or a relative's — recovery from sickness. As soon as 
we pass to another tribe, we find different conceptions, and it then becomes 
difficult to specify any characteristics common to age-societies and not 
shared by other forms of organization. 

So long as our attention is confined to the Arapaho, this difficulty is not 
brought home to us, because it is one peculiarity of Arapaho ceremonial life, 
that all ceremonial organizations are related to the age-class system. But 
we need merely consider the Gros Ventre, the nearest relatives of the Arapaho, 
to find a society — that of the Stars — which is not connected with the order 
of age-societies. Among the Blackfoot, the age-companies constituting the 
"AH Comrades" were indeed the most important ceremonial bodies, but 
there were several societies, both ancient and modern, standing outside of 
their order. ^ The point comes out most clearly on examining ^Maximilian's 
data with respect to the Village tribes. Taking the Arikara for illustration, 
we find an age-series composed of the Bear, Mad Wolf, Fox, Mad Dog, 
Mad Bull and Soldier organizations. But outside of this series stand the 
societies practising the hot-dance, bird's-egg, youngest-child, prairie-fox, 
white-earth, spirit, and extended-robe dances. Each of these societies 
appears to have had its own regalia, and it is by no means clear in what 
respect they differed from the graded societies. From ^Maximilian's state- 
ment it appears that even the remarkable surrender of the novice's wife to 
his "father" or "grandfather" is not peculiar to the age-societies, for he 
draws no distinction in this respect between the two classes of Arikara 
societies, and he clearly mentions this feature in connection with the Crow, 
among whom neither he nor any subsequent observer has recorded age- 
societies.- We may go further. Not only have tribes with the age-series 
also ceremonially similar organizations outside the series,, but tribes like 
the Crow, Cheyenne and Kiowa — where age-societies do not occur — have 
organizations Avhich in some features parallel the age-societies so closely 
that, as already noted, most ethnologists tacitly assume their community of 
origin. 

Passing to the "religious" societies of the Omaha, we again find it 
difficult to conceive them as ceremonially distinct from the age-organiza- 
tions. In the Buft'alo society, there was a clear diflferentiation of rank. 
Four men were skilled surgeons, four only — it is not clear whether these 
are the surgeons — put the skin of a buffalo head over their heads, the 
horns standing up and the hair of the buffalo-head hanging down below the 



1 Wissler, (b), p. 174. 

2 Maximilian, I, pp. 401, 409; II, pp. 143, 242. 



86 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xatural History. [Vol. IV, 

chests of the wearers. Some wore only leggings and breechelouts, others 
also robes with the hair outside; some wore buffalo tails fastened in their 
belts, and some performers used red-willow sticks for dancing-staffs. In 
their dancing, the performers Imitated the movements of buffalo. The 
horse-dancer wore a necklace of horse-hair, and in his belt a horse's tail; 
in his actions, he imitated horses. The wolf-dancers wore wolf skins, 
painted their bodies in imitation of "blue wolves," and danced like wolves. 
In the Grizzly society, the members imitated grizzly bears; one man wore a 
grizzly skin, and several had bear-claw necklaces. It is interesting to note a 
curious relation between the Buffalo society on the one hand and the Horse 
and Wolf societies on the other. After the recovery of a patient, the buffalo- 
dancers might invite the members of the Horse society, but not those of the 
Wolf societv. On other occasions, either of these bodies might be requested 
to join in the dance. But neither the horse-dancers nor the wolf-dancers 
could ever perform except in conjunction with the V)uffal()-(lancers. While 
it is not possible fully to understand this relationship, it certainly seems to 
exemplify the gradation of societies — on as yet unknown principles.' 
The Elk mystery of the Ogalalla Sioux - was essentially similar to the Omaha 
ceremonies just mentioned. Masks resembling elk heads with the horns 
were worn, and the party of performers imitated elk. The prej)ond(M-ance 
of animal names for the "religious" societies, the concomitant adoption 
of some corresponding badge, and the imitation of the animal from which 
each society derives its name ally these organizations with the age-societies. 
The supernatural element which seems to separate the "religious" from 
other forms of organization is in reality present in most of the age-societies: 
the ceremony is generally conceived to have originated in a sui)ernatin-al 
revelation to a single person, who is empowered to initiate other individuals. 
The coexistence with age-societies of ostensibly difl'erent forms of organi- 
zation did not escape Schurtz's attention, but all features other than the age 
factor seem to him later intrusions tending to break down a primeval classi- 
fication on the sole basis of age. "tjberhaupt treten an die Stelle der Alters- 
verbiinde Vereinigungen anderer Art, die meist auf raystischer Grundlage 
ruhen, eigene Briiuche und Tanze haben, und also schon tjbergangsformen 
zu den Geheimbiinden bilden; die jNIitglieder werden weniger daraufhin 
aufgenommen, dass sie ein bestimmtes Lebensalter erreicht haben, als 
durch Wahl und gegen entsprechende Bezahlung, ahnlich wie das in den 
melanesischen Klubs zu geschehen pflegt." ^ If, however, the psychological 
basis of these organizations be different, it is not readily intelligible why they 



» J. O. Dorsej-. (a), pp. 347-349, 

2 Miss Fletcher, (a). 

3 Schurtz, pp. 151-152. 



1909.] Louie, The Assiniboine. g7 

could not have coexisted with age-societies from the earliest times, or even 
have antedated them. Both the mystic experiences and the conception of a 
transferable ritual are such fundamental features of Plains culture that their 
relatively recent development cannot be seriously maintained. But I do 
not believe that any such fundamental psychological difference exists. It is 
now generally admitted that rites cannot be compared on the basis of their 
ostensible significance, because that significance is frequently a secondarilv 
accjuired feature. When we find a buffalo ceremony celebrated amono- 
both ■Nlandan and Pawnee for the purpose of calling buffalo, we do not 
ipso facto assume a historical connection between the ceremonial proceedings. 
On the other hand, ceremonies formally identical are regarded as historicallv 
related, no matter how their origin myths, or their alleged results, may differ. 
Similarly, it seems to me artificial to group societies by the ostensible basis 
of admission, for the essential traits of the ceremonies may considerablv 
antedate the qualifications now considered indispensable. That this fact 
is recognized — though inconsistently applied — by ethnologists, has 
already been shown. The Cheyenne, Kiowa and Crow organizations are 
classed with the age-societies, while the "religious" societies and feasting 
corporations of the Omaha are excluded. I do not mean to assert a direct 
historical connection between the "religious" and age-societies in the sense 
that the latter developed from the former, or vice versa. Both rather seem 
to me to have their source in certain basic features of Plains culture. But 
I also fail to find convincing proof of a direct historical connection between 
most of the Cheyenne and Arapaho societies that are usually connected. 
For example, we might compare the Hoof-Rattle society of the Cheyenne 
with the l)iitaha"wu of the Arapaho. In both organizations, two men carry 
feathered and fur-wrapped lance-crooks, while the rank and file have straight 
lances. That the crooked lances used by various societies on the Plains had 
a common origin is extremely probable, and that the Cheyenne borrowed it 
from the Arapaho, or vice versa, is quite possible. But there the similarity 
of the societies ends. Even if we disregard specifically tribal elements 
which any borrowed society might be supposed to assimilate, the character- 
istic features are wholly difterent. The Hoof-Rattle warriors carry dew- 
claw rattles, and have for their emblem a grooved elk horn instrument in the 
form of a snake. One of their functions is the charming of large game. All 
these features are lacking in the biitaha"wu which, on its part, contains a 
host of elements not paralleled in the Cheyenne association. But on the 
basis of single traits, an indefinite number of societies, both "religious" 
and otherwise, would have to be grouped with the age-societies. 

On the other hand, the Dog society of the Cheyenne presents indubitable 
indications of a close connection with the Arapaho Dog lodge. In both 



88 Anthropological Papers America?! Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

organizations, fonr men wear trailing scarfs and are obliged to disregard 
dano-er in war. Both also share hoof-rattles, feather headdresses, and 
eagle-bone whistles. In addition, the identity of name, rarely presumptive, 
but always good corroborative, evidence, speaks in favor of a common origin. 
If this theory is adopted, the question arises whether the society defincxl l)y 
the traits enumerated originally formed one of a consecutive series of age- 
societies, or whether it existed independently of such a series and was second- 
arily graded. There is very little direct evidence of an vuigraded society 
becoming incorporated into an age-order. Mooney states that the biita- 
ha'^wu of the i\.rapaho was originally derived from the Cheyenne,^ in which 
case it would be an illustration of this process. But I fail to find any Chey- 
enne society from which it could be derived in a satisfactory way. Maxi- 
milian states that the hot-dance, performed by the youngest band of the 
Hidatsa and Mandan was obtained by purchase from the Hot Dance 
society of the Arikara, which is not connected Avith the age-societies.^ This 
is very meagre evidence, though, so far as I know, there is none whatso- 
ever for the degeneration of an age-company into an ungraded society, — 
which of course, does not disprove the assumption that such a transformation 
has taken place. It is entirely possible that within recent times the cere- 
monies of age-societies may have repeatedly become the property of ungraded 
societies, while precisely the reverse process was taking place in the case of 
other organizations. From a more general point of view, however, the re- 
markable efflorescence of ceremonial life all over the Plains as compared 
with the very narrowly circumscribed area of distribution of the age-societies 
renders it almost inconceivable that the various ceremonial bodies coexisting 
with age-orders in the same tribe, or found in tribes without the age-series, 
should all be merely degenerate forms of age-societies. 

How then do societies become graded by age, if we eliminate the theory 
of a deliberate scheme of classification? Adopting Schurtz's principle 
without applying it indiscriminately, we might assume that certain societies 
start as age-classes: that it was simply customary for young men, middle- 
aged men and old men to associate in distinct groups, whether in everyday 
life or for ceremonial purposes. The arrangement of societies in a pro- 
gressive series would then require no further explanation. As a matter of 
fact, the tendency mentioned may be amply illustrated. The Omaha 
feasting societies, with their division into men, young men and boys, have 
already been referred to. A similar division of the Cheyenne into coeval 
messmates is hinted at in several versions of a Cheyenne mvth.^ It must be 



1 Mooney, (a), p. 988. 

2 Maximilian, II, pp. 144, 217-219. Among the Cheyenne, the dance is the property of a 
medicine, not of a warrior, society. Mooney, (c), p. 415. 

3 Grinnell, (d), 180, 184, 188. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. §9 

recollected, however, that some kind of age-class may develop in various 
ways. In the Assiniboine societies, insistence on a property qualification 
would tend, as repeatedly stated by my informants, to unite only men of 
mature age. The exclusive selection of chiefs on the ground of repeated 
services of distinction eliminates younger men from the Omaha Poogethun 
society.^ The distinct character of the highest Arapaho organization, in 
spite of its intimate connection with the ceremonial order, has already been 
mentioned. So, the lowest of the Kiowa societies becomes an age-class 
through the fact that boys imitate the warrior organizations of adults, — 
a process which has also contributed to the complication of the Blackfoot 
system. Among the Pawnee, where age-societies have not been recorded, 
the Saru are said to have been all young men.- That a war-party frequently 
united young men in quest of martial glory into an age-group, is obvious. 
The tendency of age-mates to associate together is thus a real phenomenon, 
though it may manifest itself in various ways, and though the age-group need 
not include all coevals. 

If the age-societies of the \'illage tribes, Blackfoot, Arapaho and Gros 
Ventre corresponded to the classes of the coeval messmates among the 
Omaha or Cheyenne, their explanation would be extremely simple. We 
should say that an everyday classification had simply been applied to cere- 
monial life. As a matter of fact, the data are far too involved to admit of 
this explanation. It is true that the great number of age-societies in some 
of the tribes may be materially reduced. Of the Arapaho and Gros Ventre 
societies, only four have been found to constitute a well-defined group. 
Grinnell's Piegan list shrinks considerably, when the Little Bird, ^losquito 
and Dove organizations are recognized as recent imitations of the All Com- 
rades by boys and young men. Deducting from Maximilian's list the two 
societies of minors and the old men's organization — all three absolved 
from police duties — we have left four age-societies with i)olice functions.^ 
But when the remaining societies are examined, we find that they do not 
correspond to any age-divisions that might naturally develoj) among people 
who did not know their age by years. Among the Piegan, only a slight 
difi'erence of age can be assumed between the "tried warriors"of the Brave 
society and the All Crazy Dogs "about forty years old." Similarly, there is 
no fundamental difference of age, and none whatsoever with respect to 
marriage, between the Arapaho Crazy and Dog organizations. The age 
of the crazy-dancers is set by Kroeber at forty, by Mooney at more than 



1 Fletcher, (b), p. 137. 

2 G. A. Dorsey, (a), pp. 57-59, 339. 

3 There are four warrior societies among the Crow and Cheyenne and four coordinate organ- 
izations among the Kiowa. 



90 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

fifty, that of the dog-dancers is estimated by Kroeber at fifty. Both societies 
were obvioush" composed of middle-aged married men. What then forms 
the basis of gradation ? I must confess that, on the princ-iple of age-grouping 
pure and simple, the matter is vmintelligible to me. The very societies in 
the age-series which seem to form the core of the system and present the 
most characteristic traits do not constitute fundamental age-groups. This 
leads us to suspect that some other principle of gradation may have been 
more potent in the development of the series of societies, the age factor pos- 
sibly being of relatively subordinate significance. My meaning may l)e 
rendered clear by a concrete illustration. It might be supposed that the 
Arapaho had originally four warrior organizations like the Crow and Chey- 
enne. The martial distinction attained by the several societies respectively 
may have led to a differentiation of rank. If boys imitating their elders 
formed a genuine, that is, all-inclusive age-class, and if, owing to the spirit 
of social emulation, it became a rule for the boys to pass collectively from 
one of the graded societies to the other, up to the highest, then these societies 
would be naturally transformed into the kind of age-societies found. The 
fundamental age-divisions of Schurtz, however, would be represented only 
at a later stage of the system by the youthful imitators, the total adult popula- 
tion in the four graded societies, and the aged overseers of ceremonial life. 
Such a course of development seems to me intelligible, but I do not profess 
that the hypothesis represents the actual historical evolution of the Arapaho, 
or any other, order. The unique character of historical happenings — such 
a fact as the intrusion of the Blackfoot Fly society into the Gros Ventre 
system, which is of course dependent on specific conditions not paralleled 
in other tribes — must deter us from framing any generalized evolutionary 
scheme. One fact, however, is perfectly clear: the age-grouping postulated 
by Schurtz, while admirably exemplified by the Omaha feasting associa- 
tions, is radically different from the scheme of the most characteristic of the 
age-societies. 

If the principle of classification by age is dropped, the age-societies 
might be grouped together with the Crow, Cheyenne and Kiowa societies as 
miUtarij organizations. Their military character manifests itself in the im- 
position of certain obligations on the members when in battle and in the 
martial insignia borne by the dancers. On the latter point, Kroeber justly 
remarks that war was but a part of the Plains Indian's normal life, so that 
nothing is more natural than to find implements of war and references to 
fighting in the ceremonials of this area. Furthermore, it is essential to 
remember that by no means all the age-societies present this military aspect. 
Irrespective of the two highest Arapaho organizations, so important a body 
as the Crazy Dance society of the same tribe is emphatically not an associa- 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 9] 

tion of warriors, but a ceremonial and religious body, exclusively. ' Further, 
the obligations referred to generally devolve not on the members of the 
societies collectively, but on a few participants of higher degree, and these 
identical obligations are incident to membership in organizations not usualh- 
connected by ethnologists with military societies at all. 

Among the Arapaho, it is the leader with his four associates in the doo-- 
dance, as well as the holder of the second degree in the biitaha^wu, that are 
pledged never to flee from an enemy. In the dog-dance this feature is as- 
sociated with the wearing of a trailing scarf, which is fastened to the ground 
in battle to prevent the possibility of flight; while the biitaha^^wu warrior 
plants his lance-crook in the ground and must not desert this standard, 
unless it be plucked out and presented to the owner by a fellow-tribesman. 
Parallel regulations applied to the scarf-wearers of the Gros Ventre Do't 
society. x\niong the INIandan, the old men who had once been united with 
the young men in the lowest (Foolish Dog) society were not permitted to 
retreat; the bearers of two fur-wrapped spears played the part of the biita- 
ha"wu warrior; and in the Buffalo society two leaders wearing a buft'alo 
mask assumed parallel risks. Leaving the age-societies, we find among the 
Blackfoot a Brave Dog couple — not to be confounded with the Braves or 
Dogs of the All Comrades, with which order there was no connection what- 
soever — "characterized by the fact that these individuals were never per- 
mitted to turn back from a danger of any sort."" Obviously related to this 
sodality is the Crazy Dog brace of the Crow, who, according to information 
gathered by the writer, deliberately courted danger, wore trailing sashes, 
expressed the reverse of their intended meaning, and in some ways imitated 
dogs.^ The Inverted Warriors of the Cheyenne either repel a hostile charge 
or die on the spot; the four scarf -wearers of the Dog society must expose 
themselves to danger in defence of their mates.* Of the ten Kiowa Dog 
warriors, no one was expected to flee, and the leader anchored himself to the 
ground by means of a sash fastened with an arrow; the Blackleg warriors 
substituted a lance-crook for the arrow.^ From what little we know of the 
Skidi Saru association, membership seems to have involved the ol)ligation to 
speak backwards and to defy danger in battle. The Assiniboine nampec 
dancers bore fur-wrapped spears akin in function to the biitaha"wu warrior's 
spear. The Dakota No-Flight society was a similar association; it united 
young men who had not yet distinguished themselves on the battle field 



1 Mooney, (a) p. 988. 

2 Wissler, (b), p. 174. 

3 Cf. Curtis, IV, pp. 13-14. 

* G. A. Dorsey, (b), pp. 21, 25. 
s Mooney. (b), p. 284. 



92 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

under the leadership of a war captain.^ In 1S04 Lewis and Clark dis- 
covered a Sioux society, of which the members had vowed never to retreat 
from danger. In crossing the ice-covered Missouri, the foremost member 
of the association once deliberately walked into a hole and perished, while 
his followers had to be dragged out of the path of danger. In a battle with 
the Crow, eighteen of the twenty-two members were killed, the survivors 
being dragged back to safety by their fellow-tribesmen. "This society is in 
imitation of the societies of the de Curbo or Crow Indians." " The last 
statement is at first not quite clear, as the Crazy Dog couple of the Crow is 
apparently an old institution, from which so large an association as that of 
the Sioux could hardly have been derived by direct imitation. But it is 
highly probable that the notion of votive bravery was, in several of the Plains 
tribes, not monopolized by a single society, but that several organizations 
strove to outdo one another in defiance of danger. Several such instances 
have already been cited above. Among the Crow, the Big Dogs and the 
Foxes attempted to get ahead of each other in striking the first l)low at any 
enemy. Though there is no evidence that this implied the deliberate fool- 
hardiness of the Crazy Dogs, such may well have been the case, so that Lewis 
and Clark's Sioux society may have been patterned after either of these 
rival Crow organizations. Several rival warrior organizations have been 
noted by Curtis among the Teton. The Brave Hearts of the Ogallala had 
four lance-bearers who incurred the usual risks connected with their 
regalia.^ Several bravery dances were performed by the Omaha, though, 
for some obscure reason, they are generally not classed with "military 
societies." The T'e'gaxe dancers always went prepared to fall in battle; 
two men bore a feathered staff. The No-Flight society corresponded to its 
Dakota namesake. "The members vowed not to flee from a foe. They 
blackened themselves all over with charcoal. About fifty years ago two 
members went into a fight armed only with deer's claw rattles that had sharp 
iron points at either ends of the handles. They rushed among the foe and 
stabbed them before they could draw their bows." * In another ceremony, 
characterized by the use of buftalo headdresses, only very brave men were 
allowed to participate.^ The feature of obligatory, or votive, bravery is thus 
of very wide distribution; it is connected with some age-societies, some 
"military societies," and other organizations not usually included in either 
category. Even in the Crow sun-dance, certain individuals brought in by 



1 Riggs, p. 225. 

2 Lewis and Clark, I, p. 130. 

3 Curtis, III, pp. 15-16. 

4 The Flathead were led by one or two unarmed men who dauntlessly walked straight into 
the enemy's camp with their rattles and medicines (Clark, p. 356). 

5 J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 352. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 93 

the police to sit on the lodge-poles are thereafter obliged never to flee from an 
enemy. Obligatory bravery is thus not characteristic of any one type of 
ceremonial organization, but appears in various combinations of ceremonial 
traits. 

Before leaving the military features of Plains societies, I should like to 
direct attention to the similarity between the formation of a war-party and the 
organization of a military society. Among the Omaha, a small war-party 
was organized as follows. The young man who conceived the plan of the 
expedition notified his friend. If the friend consented, two messengers were 
dispatched to invite others to participate. When all had assembled in the 
lodge of the hosts, the proposer of the expedition announced his plan and the 
guests declared their intentions. After four chants and dances, a feast was 
served, after which prayers were addressed to the Thunder deity presiding 
over war. This feast took place on four successive days, after which foot- 
gear and provisions were prepared. In the dead of night the warriors 
slipped away from camp. They blackened their faces and wore buffalo 
robes plastered with white clay. The messengers wore plumes in their hair 
and girded themselves with women's pack-straps. All fasted for four days, 
then they stopped fasting and washed their faces. Before leaving the village, 
the captains selected two brave young men for lieutenants. "^ The small war- 
party was thus characterized by a number of traits suggestive of military 
societies. The prayers to the Thunder deity represent the religious element, 
the whitened robes the badge of the association, while the originator of the 
plan and his comrade were naturally differentiated in degree from the other 
warriors. To these features of course, must be added the feasting, singing, 
and dancing in the captain's lodge, and the distinctive decoration of the 
messengers as compared with the rank and file. The large war-party was 
naturally of a more complex character. To the two principal leaders two 
minor captains were added, four messengers invited the triljesmen to join 
the party, and a police force commanded by two special officers assisted the 
captains. Before retiring for the night, the warriors would perform the 
coyote-dance, imitating the actions of a coyote; during tliis ])erformance 
each man carried a gourd rattle and a bow, and wore his quiver in his belt." 
These war-parties of the Omaha thus present a considerable munber of 
features found in military societies, and show them associated in the most 
natural way. 

The point becomes clearer on comparing with the foregoing description 
Keating's little-noticed account of the Dakota No-Flight society: 



1 J. O. Dorsey, (a), pp. 315-318. 

2 J. O. Dorsey, (a), pp. 318-323. 



94 A?ithropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

There exists in some of the bands of the Dacotas, and probably also among some 
of the other Missouri Indians, an association called the Nanpashe'n^e, those who never 
fly or retreat. A society of this kind originates in an union of two friends, who, 
when a warlike expedition is projected, propose to form an association. They send 
for a third warrior, and these three appoint the whole number, which seldom exceeds 
thirty or forty. When they are all collected, the two founders state to them that 
the object of the meeting is to form a company of "the Dauntless," and they advise 
them to prepare their dresses, which generally require about a fortnight. In the 
meanwhile, the two founders prepare the lodge of the association, which none but 
its members are suffered to enter. 

When all the members are collected together, they commence their songs and 
dances, and their fasts which last three days, during which time they reside in the 
lodge, but occasionally sally out to sing and dance in the camp. This fast is of the 
most strict nature, as they dare take neither food nor drink during the three days. 
One of the most striking features of the association is, that it is limited in its duration, 
and that its activity is suspended by the death of any one of its members. The duty 
which it enjoins is not destruction to its enemies, but the rushing into tlanger with 
songs and dances. It matters not whether they inflict any injury upon the enemy 
at the time. Indeed, as long as the association is in activity, they cannot go out 
unarmed. A society of this kind sometimes continues actively employed for a 
whole year, during which time its members cannot provide themselves with food 
or drink, but they must wait until it is offered to them by their friends. When a 
person once enters into the Nanpashene, he is bound to it for life; for although its 
duration is limited, yet it may be renewed at the call of any of its members, in 
which case all are bound to join in; but during the term of its suspension, each may 
act for himself as he pleases. It is not always that an Indian is willing to enter into 
this society, for though it is held in high honor, yet it requires a more than usual 
courage to expose one's self passively to the greatest dangers, under a strict obliga- 
tion, which none dare violate, never to retreat from it. In the commencement of 
the association, the two founders having selected a third, and this one nominated a 
fourth member, these meet in the lodge appropriated to their purpose, and as soon 
as they have entered it, and smoked the pipe of war, they cannot retract. These 
four assume the appropriate dress, and issue out of the lodge singing and dancing; 
they select such of the warriors, as they think will be good members of the band, and 
convey them, whether willing or not, to their lodge. If the warrior enters it, even 
but for a moment, he is bound to the association and cannot withdraw; but if he 
succeed in effecting his escape before he enters the lodge, he is free. Vacancies in 
their body are never filled; the association continues until it is annihilated by the 
death of all its members, when a new one may be formed. They have occasional 
meetings for feasts and sacrifices. Their fasts are both frequent and rigid. It is 
difficult to determine, with precision, what the object of the institution is, but it 
seems to be to convince the enemy, that there are, in their band, a number of men 
so heedless of danger, that they will rush into it, under a solemn pledge never to 
retreat, and also without the usual motive of selling their lives at a high price, by 
the number of the enemy whom they will have previously destroyed. It must be 
admitted that the passive courage, which this association requires of its members, 
presents perhaps the highest degree, which man has ever manifested; for they are 
not even animated by a religious or a superstitious feeling; they do not believe 
that this self-devotion will ensure success to their party. They, it is true, enter- 



1909.] Loivie, The Assiniboine. 95 

tain the opinion that it is more difficult to kill them than other warriors; yet this 
does not detract in the least from their merit, as they know they must, sooner or 
later, fall victims to the dangers to which they expose themselves. The great di- 
vinity to which this association looks up for support, is the thunder, to which 
frequent sacrifices are offered, especially by the two founders who are its leaders. 
The sacrifices are made at the door of the lodge, and consist of pieces of meat stuck 
upon a wooden fork, and inclined to the west. The members of this association 
have a costly and splendid dress, made of antelope's skin; they wear feathers 
upon their heads. Every band of the Sioux has not an association of this kind; 
some have two or three societies, one of which has alone the title of the brave; the 
others being called the soldiers, the buffalo, etc. The object of these appears to be 
different, as they are not bound to that passive exposure to danger, which char- 
acterizes the Nanpashene.' 

In both the orduiarv war-parties of the Omaha and in the Dakota society 
we find an association of men banded together under the leadership of two 
friends assisted by two subordinate officers; secret meetings take place in a 
lodge; there are prayers to the Thunder; and a several days' fast precedes 
the military operations. A "military" society might thus be conceived as a 
permanent association of men once joined in war and preserving the cere- 
monials and differentiations of rank observed during the expedition. At all 
events, in both instances a very natural reason is shown for the development 
of higher degrees. 

One of the most peculiar features of the age-societies — and doubtless 
one which seems to have spread from but a single starting-point within the 
area under consideration — is the clownish behavior characteristic of certain 
organizations. This clownishness generally assumes the form of "doing 
things by contraries." It can readily be shown that this feature occurs in 
the most divergent comljinations, both in age-societies and other types of 
organization. Among the Crow, it is coupled with the Spartan bravery of 
the two Crazy Dogs, yet it is lacking in the obviously related Brave Dog 
union of the Blackfoot. The Assiniboine Fools, besides affecting oddity of 
dress and inverted speech, perform characteristic ceremonies around a bull 
and afterwards with its meat, — ceremonies unparalleled, so far as I know, 
in other tribes.- The Inverted Warriors of the Cheyenne unite dauntlessness 
with backward speech,- as did the Pawnee Saru organization. In the 
Heyoka society of the Dakota — apparently a "religious" organization — 
the strangely clad and painted dancers, who claim relationship with the 
Thunder deities, plunge their hands into boiling water and scald their backs 
and legs, complaining that the water is cold. Their supernatural cxemi)lars 
act in every way contrary to nature. "In the winter they stand on the open 



1 Keating, I, pp. 418-421. 

2 G. A. Dorsey, (b), pp. 24-26. 



96 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

prairie without clothing; in the summer they sit on knolls wrapped in 
buffalo robes, and yet they are freezing." ^ The crazy-dancers of the Ara- 
paho and Gros Ventre ' seem to be the only representatives of age-societies 
to indulge in corresponding forms of extravagance. With the exception of 
the Arapaho and Gros Ventre societies, none of the organizations character- 
ized by clownishness seem to be otherwise genetically related. 

There remains to be considered the possibility that the age-societies are 
to be conceived as police organizations. Among the Picgan, the All Com- 
rades order, as a whole, seems to have acted as a disciplinary force, but 
police functions principally devolved on the Braves. "They were the 
constables of the camp, and it was their duty to preserve order, and to punish 
offenders. Sometimes young men would skylark in camp at night, making 
a great noise when people wanted to sleep, and would play rough practical 

jokes, that w^ere not at all relished by those who suffered from them 

The Braves would punish the young men who did such things, — if they 
could catch them, — tearing up their blankets, taking away their property, 
and sometimes whipping them severely." ^ Among the Arapaho, the 
biitaha^wu dancers (Bitahi'nena) constituted the constabulary. "They 
performed police duty in camp, when traveling, and on the hunt, and were 
expected to see that the orders of the chief were obeyed by the tribe. For 
instance, if any person violated the tribal code or failed to attend a general 
dance or council, a party of Bitahi'nena was sent to kill his dogs, destroy 
his tipi, or in extreme cases to shoot his ponies. On hunting expeditions 
it was their business to keep the party together and see that no one killed a 
buffalo until the proper ceremonies had been performed and the order was 
given by the chief. They were regarded as the representatives of the law 
and were never resisted in performing their duty or inflicting punishments." * 
Among the Village tribes, it is doubtful, whether the police body coincided 
with one of the ceremonial age-groups. The Black-]Mouths mentioned in 
one of Clark's two varying accounts as an Arikara age-society,^ appear, 
from his fuller statement, to have been recruited from several of the age- 
societies. The Hidatsa Soldiers naturally embraced "the bravest and most 
influential men of the tribe;" from ^Matthews' statements -they obviously 
constituted the tribal police, but neither he, nor Maximilian, identifies them 
with a definite age-class.^ The Mandan Soldiers had their specific ceremony, 
but all the higher classes could at the same time belong to the band of the 

1 J. O. Dorsey, (b), pp. 468-471. Cf. Eastman, pp. 242, 256-258. 

2 Kroeber, (a), p. 192; (b), p. 245. Mooney, (a), p. 1033. 

3 Grinnell, (c), pp. 222-223. 
■* Mooney, (a), p. 988. 

fi Clark, pp. 44, 355. 
•5 Matthews, p. 131. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assinibome. 97 

Soldiers, who acted as police-officers.^ I interpret ^Maximilian's by no 
means clear account to mean that the higher classes participated in the police 
functions of a lower class without sharing their ceremonial performances, 
the constabulary being collectively called "Soldiers." If this be a correct 
assumption, the Soldiers, like the corresponding Arikara and Hidatsa bodies, 
would form a natural age-group of mature men, but not an age-society in the 
definite sense attached to the term throughout this discussion. 

If the police functions of age-societies are primarily connected with the 
buffalo hunt and camp life, we may expect to find corresponding powers 
wielded where these fundamental traits of Plains life exist without age- 
societies. Of ungraded societies with military traits, the Kiowa Dogs,' and 
possibly all the four Crow warrior organizations, had police duties. The 
Omaha, when preparing for a buffalo hunt, selected policemen from the 
ranks of the brave. Their principal function was to prevent the premature 
stampeding of the herd, and in discharging this duty they had practically 
unlimited disciplinary powers; in ordinary times, they acted as messengers 
for the chiefs. Policemen varying in number, were also appointed to dis- 
cipHne war-parties and festal throngs.^ The Soldiers of the Dakota tiyo- 
tipi were primarily game-wardens with the characteristic "soldier-killing" 
powers of cutting up an offender's tent and destroying his property.* The 
Assiniboine agi'tcita probably formed a strictly homologous body. Schurtz 
emphasizes the fact that minors and old men were excluded from this organi- 
zation. But this merely shows that the Soldiers formed a natural age-class 
of mature men, not an age-class comparable to those of the Arapaho; and 
in this sense there can be little doubt that the Dakota and Omaha policemen, 
as well as the twenty-four warriors "not so old as to be unfitted for active 
work, yet with the fires of early youth somewhat tempered by years of 
experience," ^ who regulated the Pawnee hunt, also constituted an age- 
class. None of these groups seems to have comprised all tribesmen of 
approximately the same age, and none of them formed one of a progressive 
series of ceremonial organizations. It is interesting to note that among the 
Gros Ventre, where the old age-companies have for a long time been super- 
seded by the societies of the star-dancers and war-dancers, the members of 
these new organizations have naturally assumed the police powers formerly 
vested in some of the older societies.^ Still more instructive is the consti- 
tution of the Osage police force. In this tribe a gentile system prevailed, 

1 Maximilian, II, p. 141. 

2 Mooney, (a), p. 990. 

3 J. O. Dorsey, (a), pp. 288-289, 321, 363. Jame?, I, p. 189. 

4 Riggs, pp. 195-198, 200-202. 

5 Grinnell, (a), pp. 274-275. 
Kroeber, (b), p. 239. 



98 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

but military or age-societies have not been recorded. The camp-circle was 
divided into a War and a Peace moiety, and four of the gentes, two for each 
side, furnished the tribal constables, who w^ere again primarily officers of the 
hunt.^ The association of age-societies with police powers must thus be 
considered a secondary one. In the Plains area, police functions developed 
in connection with the camp-circle and the tribal hunt. Where age-societies 
had arisen, these disciplinary duties fell to their lot. Where ungraded mili- 
tary societies occurred, police functions were attached to them. Among 
the Osage, where there was a gentile system, some of the gentes exercised 
corresponding powers. 

The principal conclusions arrived at in the preceding discussion may be 
briefly summarized as follows: The age-societies of the Plains Indians are 
not simple age-classes comparable to those of the Omaha feasting societies. 
The system of age-classification exemplified by them must have had a'single 
origin, but the changes the several orders have undergone are such that their 
historical development can no longer be traced in detail. It is clear that the 
age-societies of even a single series do not all conform to one ceremonial 
type. Ceremonially, age-societies cannot be separated from "religious" 
or other foi-ms of organization occurring either in the same or in other tribes. 
However old natural age-classes may be, the age-groups represented by the 
age-societies must be considered of later origin than the ceremonial traits 
shared by them with other organizations. Certain military characteristics 
ally certain of the age-societies with certain ungraded societies of the Crow, 
Cheyenne, Kiowa, Assiniboine, Dakota and Omaha; the combinations of 
these characteristics differ considerably. The development of the military 
features is to some extent illuminated by the mode of organization of war- 
parties. Clownish behavior and police functions likewise occur in varying 
combinations and cannot be taken to define any one type of organization of 
the Plains Indians. In further investigations of the age-societies, it will 
thus be necessary to eliminate wholesale comparisons either of orders or 
societies in favor of an intensive comparative study of well-defined single 
traits. Each series, as well as each society, will then appear, to some extent, 
as a unique historical product determined by specifically tribal factors; 
in part, their development will be seen to have resulted from a novel synthesis 
of singly widespread elements; while in some instances it may be possible 
to prove the direct borrowing of elements, or their combinations, from a 
definite source. 

1 J. O. Dorsey, (c), pp. 233-237. 



1909.] Louie, The Assiniboine. 99 



11. MYTHOLOGY. 

Comparative. 

As might have been expected from the Unguistic and geographical 
affiliations of the Assiniboine, their mythology is of a composite type. For 
comparative purposes, it seems best to consider the trickster cvcle separatelv 
from the other tales. 

IHio^'m^ (Stoney: IHiu'mui) is obviously merely a dialectic variation 
of the Dakota name Unktomi, Ikto or Iktomi, and the character itself corre- 
sponds to the Omaha Ictinike. Unfortunately, the Dakota material avail- 
able for comparison is eoctremely meagre. However, we can combine all 
the trickster tales of the Crow, Dakota, Omaha and Osage, and it may then 
become permissible to offer some suggestions as to the relation of the 
I^kto'^'m^ cycle to the corresponding body of Siouan folklore. Making this 
comparison, we find but relatively few elements that are shared by the 
Assiniboine with their Siouan congeners. Of these, the story of the hood- 
winked dancers is found among practically all the tribes of the Plains and 
Central Algonkian groups, and the earth-diver incident is likewise too widely 
diffused to serve as a criterion of historical significance. In fact, there is not 
a single incident common to the Assiniboine and Siouan tribes that is not 
also found outside the pale of this linguistic stock. On the other hand, the 
influence of contact with the Cree is manifest; of about thirty Assiniboine 
episodes of comparative interest, seventeen are also found among the Cree, 
and this in spite of our extremely vmsatisfactory knowledge of Cree 
mythology. The hardly less noticeable muiiber of similarities with the 
Blackfoot and Arapaho-Gros Ventre also indicates the overshadowing 
effect of relatively recent contact in the elaboration of the I"kto"'m' myth. 
That some of the incidents have been directly adopted from the Cree even 
where they are lacking in published collections of Cree folklore is indicated by 
the distribution of the "day-year visitors" motive. Found only among the 
Central Algonkian and referred to Cree heroes in one of the Stoney versions, 
it may safely be regarded as a modern Cree intrusion. The relation of the 
Assiniboine I"kton'm' to the Santee Unktomi is thus of the vaguest character. 
Pending further researches into Dakota mythology, it might be said that, in 
harmony with the original concei)tion of the character, luniicrous trickster 
tales appear to have been adopted into the cycle from neighl)oring tribes, 
while others have probably disappeared, so that nothing but the name and 
the trickster type of character remain. It may also be pointed out that the 



100 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Hisiortj. [Vol. I\', 

Assiniboine trickster is by no means the uniformly malevolent character 
pictured by Riggs.^ In the distribution of ceremonials, in the instruction 
of mankind, the slaying of the giant and the theft of summer, he appears at 
times as the culture-hero, or at least as the transitional figure described by 
Professor Boas.^ 

To myths not connected with the trickster cycle, the Cree appear to have 
contributed a fair share, without taking the first place in point of influence. 
Treating the Assiniboine poor boy and snake-paramour stories as units, 
about one-third of the tales shared with any tribe whatsoever are common to 
the Assiniboine and Cree. Proceeding on the assumption previously made 
— that stories recorded exclusively among Central Algonkian tribes and the 
Assiniboine have been introduced by the Cree — the percentage is not 
noticeably increased. The relationship is strongest with the other western 
Algonkian. Treating the Arapaho and Gros Ventre as one peo})le and dis- 
regarding the Cheyenne, whose folklore is but inadequately known, we find 
that each of the three western Algonkian divisions .shares Assiniboine myths 
in approximately equal measure. About the same percentage of homologies 
is found on comparison with the Omaha. For some of these, such as the 
sun-catcher and "two brothers" myths, there is fair reason to assume an 
Algonkian rather than a Siouan origin, certainly so far as their a])i)earance 
among the Assiniboine is concerned. While therefore, in the absence of 
much more complete data from the Crow and the Dakota, it may appear 
premature to generalize, the conclusion seems warranted, on the basis of 
available material, that Assiniboine mythology bears but weak testimony to 
the historically and linguistically known relation of the Assiniboine to the 
Sioux, rather emphasizing the influence of recent contact with other tribes. 

Trickster^ Cycle. 

1.* 

Long ago there was water everywhere. Sitco'^'ski was traveling about 
in a moose-skin boat. He saw the Muskrat coming towards him, holding 

1 Riggs, p. 138. 

2 Boas, Introduction to Teit's Traditions of the Thompson River Indians of British Columbia. 

3 Called I^kto-'m' or Sitca°'-yucki°" by the Assiniboine, I-ktu'mni or Sitco°'ski by the 
Stoneys. 

■4 The younger Henry (Coues, p. 521) has Eth'tome causing the flood by his misconduct 
and then embarking in a twig-canoe with a pair of each species of animals; the Muskrat dives 
for earth. A similar version appeared in the Journal of American Folk-Lore, Vol. V, 1892, p. 73. 

The Assiniboine myths here presented were all collected at Morley, Alberta and Ft. Belknap 
Montana. Those not credited in footnotes to the latter division of the tribe were recorded at 
Morley. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. ]01 

something in its paws. "What are you holding there?" "Nothing." 
"Let me see, and I'll take you into my boat." The Muskrat showed him 
the mud it was holding in its paws. Sitco'^'ski took it, saying, "I am going 
to make the earth out of this." He rubbed the mud between his palms, 
breathed on it, and thus made the earth. '^ 

At that time the ]Muskrat had a tail such as the Beaver now has. Sitco'^'- 
ski met them and said, "Change tails. You have a small body IMuskrat, 
vour tail is too large." This is how the Beaver g-ot its tail.^ 

2.3 

All the earth was flooded with water. I^kto^'m' sent animals to dive for 
dirt at the bottom of the sea. No animal was able to get any. iVt last he 
sent the Muskrat. It came up dead, but with dirt in its claws. I"kto"'m' 
saw the dirt, took it, and made the earth out of it. 

I"kto"'mi was wearing a wolf -skin robe. He said, "There shall be as 
many months as there are hairs on this skin before it shall be summer." * 
Frog said, "If the winter lasts as long as that, no creature will be able to live. 
Seven months of winter will be enough." He kept on repeating this, until 
I"kto"'m' got angry, and killed him. Still Frog stuck out seven of his toes. 
Finally, Pkto'i'mi consented, and said there should be seven winter months. 

I'^kto^'m^ then created men and horses out of dirt. Some of the x\ssini- 
boine and other northern tribes had no horses. I^kto^'m^ told the Assini- 
boine that thev were alwavs to steal horses from other tribes. 



Once the whole earth was covered with snow. I"kto"'m' was called to 
the sky by some supernatural beings, who asked him to help them get rid of 
the snow. "If you help us, you'll be able to fool people and to make any- 
thing talk excepting water." Pkto'^'m' was satisfied. Then one of the 
beings said, "Far east, beyond the extremity of the snow-field, there is a man 
who keeps the summer weather, there it is always summer." Then he asked 
I"kto"'m' to trv to steal the good weather out of the owner's lodge, to one of 



1 Cf. Petitot, p. 473 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 19 (Blackfoot); Kroeber. (e), p. 59 
(Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 16 (Arapaho); Simms, p. 281 (Crow); Schoolcraft, 
p. 39 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 134 (Menomini); Jones, p. 365 (Fox). 

- The same hicident is recorded in a Cree myth, Annual Archmological Report for 1904, 
pp. 93-94. 

3 Ft. Belknap. 

•» Cf. Teit, p. 626 (Shuswap). 

5 Ft. Belknap. Cf. Kroeber, (e), p. 65 (Gros Ventre); Simms, p. 283 (Crow). For 
the theft of heat, kept in a bag, cf. Petitot, p. 373, (Chipewyan), Teit, p. 624 (Shuswap). 



102 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

the poles of which it was tied. The owner was very waka'^', and knew 
immediateh' whenever anyone approached his lodge. For that reason it was 
very hard to steal the good weather. He also had servants, birds among 
them, to help him watch. He said if anyone stole the summer, it would he 
well, but until people got it by theft he would keep it for himself. I"kto"'m' 
said to the supernatural beings, " If I go down to the earth again, I must have 
the power to make things talk right away." They consented. Then he 
declared he would get the summer, and descended to the earth. 

I"kto'^'m^ lay down on the highest point covered with snow. He was 
shivering, and built a fire. Seeing a jack-ral)bit, he said, "Younger brother, 
come here." The Rabbit went to him. "Brother have you seen any ani- 
mals around here?" "Yes." "Which ones?" "I'hc Wolf, the Coyote, 
the Red Fox, and some birds." "Brother, bid them come here to see me, 
that am their brother." "In the night Rabl)it ran off, and delivered his 
message. The next morning all came to I"kto"'ni'. I"kto"'m' said, 
"Brethren, we'll look for summer weather, steal it, and l)ring it to this 
country." One of them asked, "What is summer?" But I"kto"'m^ re- 
plied, "Don't ask any questions, do what I tell you, and it will be good for 
us. We'll start to-night." 

They set out towards the east, and traveled many months. Finally, 
they got to the end of the snow. I"kto"'mi planted a long pole there, and 
on the top of it placed the Tceda'^', a fast-flying bird (sailing-hawk?). In 
front of it, on summer-ground, stood the Rabbit, before him the Coyote, in 
front of the Coyote the Red Fox, then the Wolf, the Fox, and the Kata'- 
pknadaMa" (an owl-like bird). I^ktoi^'m' encouraged his assistants, then 
he called the Kata'pknadaVla" and bade him fly to a large lodge facing 
towards the east. I^kto^^'m^'s party had approached it from the rear. 
"Fly to that camp very carefully, get to the smoke-hole, and peep in to see 
whether the good weather is tied up anywhere inside. Don't let the owner 
see you." The bird flew to the tipi, and alighted on a pole. As he was 
looking in, the owner asked, "What are you doing ?" The Kata'pknadaVla" 
did not reply. The man seized a firebrand and struck the bird's nose, burn- 
ing it. When he lowered the stick, the bird flew off. "I wonder what 
they are trying to do." He summoned a servant, and bade him build a fire 
outside and keep watch. 

I"kto"'mi was waiting for the Kata'pknadaMa^^'s return. The bird 
told him that the good weather was in the lodge, and its owner was seated 
under it. "That is all you have to do," said I"kton'm'. "I needed you 
because you are a bird that can fly noiselessly." Then he encouraged the 
Fox, bidding him steal the good weather. I^ktoti'mi wore a fox-skin clout. 
"Follow me," he said to the Fox, "I'll go up to the servant and talk to him. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 103 

I'll stand in front, so he won't be able to see you. Then you can jump 
at the bag containing the summer and rush out again." I"kto"'m' walked 
towards the lodge with his clout hanging to the ground, and the Fox follow- 
ing. When they approached the tipi, the servant said, "I"kto"'m^ is coming. 
What do you wish to see my brother about?" I"kto"'m' took out some 
glue and closed the servant's mouth. Then he choked him, and threw him 
into the fire. "Let us go nearer," he said to the Fox. When they got very 
close, he said, "Crawl in from the rear, snatch off the bag and run out. 
He'll pursue you, but run between my legs, get to the other animals, and 
pass the bag to the next in lint." The Fox crawled in, while I"kto"'mi 
waited at a distance. He seized the bag, and ran, pursued by the owner. 
While he was passing between I"kto"'m*'s outspread legs, the man caught 
hold of the trailing fox-skin breechclout. I"kto"'m^ also seized it, crying, 
"I have caught him!" The man turned the skin over. "You must be 
sitting on him." "No, I seized him, perhaps he has gone underground, let 
us look in there." The owner looked everywhere, but did not find anything. 
"Let us think about it," said Inkto"'m\ They sat down, and considered, 
the matter. I'^kto'^'m^ was carrying his arrows and his pipe with him. 

After a while, the owner saw that the Fox had passed the bag to the 
Wolf, who ran on with it. The Red-Fox took it from the Wolf, and passed 
it to the Coyote, who ran and gave it to the Jack-Rabbit. The .lack-Rabbit 
carried it close to the snowbank. The owner gave chase, but all the animals 
disappeared underground, where he had no power. At last the Rabbit 
passed it to the Tceda"'. The Tceda"^' rose from the top of his pole, and 
flew away with the heat. The owner sent waka"' birds after him. The 
Tceda"' first soared high up, then suddenly darted down, skimming the 
surface of the snow. The birds returned to the owner, telling him they 
could not find the fugitive. The owner cried, and returned to his home, 
where I'^kto^'m' met him. 

I"kto"'m' sprinkled water on his face, and pretended to be perspiring 
from his exertions in the owner's behalf. "Did you catch him? I tried to 
find him, but failed." He feigned great anger, tore up the earth with a knife, 
and threatened to kill the thief with it. "Let us track him," he suggested. 
The owner said, "No, I'll go back. Perhaps he has returned it to its place. 
See if you can get him for me." I"kto"'m' promised to pursue the thieves, 
and walked to the summit of a hill, where all his helpers were seated around a 
fire. I^kto^'m^ said, "Brethren, we have it now. Bring that l)ag down." 
The Tceda"', who was coming on the wing, brought it down. "Let us see 
whether it is the right one." He untied the bag, and, as he spread it open, 
the snow on which they were seated disappeared, they were sitting on the 
bare ground, and the leaves were sprouting on the trees. "I thmk we have 



104 AntJiropoloyical Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

the right one, now let us get something to eat." All went away to hunt for 
food, and each returned with something to eat. The next day he said, "Let 
us go home." He tied up the bag, and the ground was covered with snow 
again. 

They traveled on. I"kto"'m' said, "Stop, brethren, I'll try to do some- 
thing." He opened his bag again, making a path of bare ground ahead of 
them to travel on. After a while he made another path clear of snow. 
Thus they continued traveling. After a while, the Wolf and the Foxes said 
they were tired of walking on the bare ground. "Let me know when your 
feet get tender, and I'll change off." So I"kto'^'m' closed the bag, and 
made snow once more. At last, he said, "I am going to take this bag up 
there; when I come back to the earth, I'll have a talk with you." So 
I^kto'^'m^ ascended to the sky with his bag. 

I"kto"'m* gave the bag to Otce'giyeyaHii.^ Otce'giyeya^bi said, "I shall 
call up every species of animals and ask what kind of weather they prefer, 
and for how long a period. For the present, I shall make summer." So he 
untied the bag, and it was summer. He called uj) all the beasts and all the 
birds. Frost (Wazi'ya) was there too. Otce'giyeyaMji said, "I"kto"'m' 
will be the judge, the animals will plead." One animal said, "Let the 
Avinter last forty months." But another answered, "No, we have just had a 
long winter, that is not at all good." A third one suggested that there should 
not be any winter whatsoever. I"kto"'m^ looked at the last speaker, and 
said, "Get out of here, you come from the man we stole this from." Frost 
said, "You ought to have winter part of the time; sunnner alone would 
not be good, you ought to change." The Fox said he wanted snow for ])art 
of the year. The Wolf, Coyote, Rabbit and the birds all agreed with him. 

Then I'^kto"'m' asked them in regard to human beings in the world. 
"How long ought they to live?" One said, "Let them live forever." "No," 
said another, "there would he too many, they would drive us out of the coun- 
try." A third debater thought people ought to die whenever they were taken 
sick. A fourth said, "There is no use to put them on the earth, if they are 
to die." Still another said, "Let those that get sick die, but let them come 
back to life again after four days." At last I^kto'i'm^ said, "No, let there 
be people to enjoy the world, but when they die they shall not return. Their 
souls will go elsewhere, but their bodies must not come back." 

Then they discussed the seasons again. Frog was there with his pipe. 
He was the last one to speak, and said, "Let there be six months of winter 
and six months of summer." ^ Inkto^i'm^ snatched up a club, and hit him 
over the head, saying, "That is too short a time." Frog stretched out his 



1 Great Spirit? 

- Cf. Lowie, p. 274 (Shoshone); Simms, p. 284 (Crow). 



1909.] Lou'ie, The Assiniboine. 105 

hands. Then I"kto"'ni' took pity on him, and helped him sit up ao;ain. 
"I'll do as you say, there shall be six months of winter, and six months of 
summer." Then he said to Frost, "All are through talking, I shall judge 
as best I know how. You must go far north, and stay there. AVhen the 
winter comes, you may take charge for half the year. You may make some 
days of cold weather, but don't make it too cold, or we'll keep you here, 
and then there will not be any more winter." Frog agreed to these terms. 
Then I'^kto'^'m^ bade all the animals dive into a hole containing fat. "This 
will get into yovu" bodies," he said, "and will keep you warm in the winter." ^ 



I"ktu'mni traveled along the Old-Man River. He used to play with 
stones, which he piled up in large heaps. When he sat down on a rock, a 
mark was made by his buttocks, and when he lay down prone with his arms 
before his face a mark was made by his arms and legs. The impress of his 
bodv is still, visible on the rocks. 



It was near Porcupine Hill and Old-^Ian River that women were first 
found. The men were living in a valley by themselves, and all the women 
were living on the other side of the mountains. Both constructed buffalo 
pounds. Once a man and a woman, both driving buffalo, met for the first 
time. "Quid istud?" vir interrogavit. "Hie quidem cunnus est; quid 
istud?" "Mentula" respondit. "Cui bono?" "Ad copulandum." 
Coire conati sunt, mulieri melli erat. "I'll take you home," she said, 
"there are many women there." She took the man to her camp. When he 
had returned to his own home, he told the men that he had found many 
women and had enjoyed cohabitation. The next morning the men followed 
him, Sitco^'ski among them. All the women were drawn up in a line, and 
so were the men. Then the chieftainess said, "I am going to select the man 
I like best." She chose Sitco"'ski, seizing his hand, but he refused to go 
with her. Then she ordered the other women not to choose Sitco'^'ski. All 

1 For the last incident, see Russell, p. 209 (Cree). 

The following fragmentary version was obtained at Morley: Long ago it was always winter. 
The people were looking for summer. At last they reached a lodge. Its owner said, "I have 
the summer hanging up here." The Snow-Man (Wa^ye'du wintca'cta) stole the summer. 
Once while he was bathing, the white ducks ran away with it. Thus the people got summer. 
In two interesting particulars, the warning of Frost and the antagonism of Frog, the Wisa'- 
ketcak myth of the Cree as recorded by James Stewart {Aimual Archaeological Report for 
1904, pp. 90 et seq.) resembles the Assiniboine myth. 

2 Also heard by the writer among the Cree. Cf. Grinnell, (c), p 137 (Blackfoot). 
8 Wissler and Duvall, p. 21 (Blackfoot). 



106 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

the women selected husbands, but Sitco"'ski remained single. Sitco"'ski 
walked away singing. He got to a hill and slid down, leaving the impress 
of his buttocks and testes. The marks are still visible. 

Q} 

Once I"kto"'m' was walking along the edge of a big lake. He wanted 
to cross to the other side, but could not swim over. He was thinking of 
how he might get over, when he noticed a young man ])addling a canoe. 
When he had got close, I'^kto'^'m' hailed him and asked where he was going. 
"I am shooting ducks." "Very well," said I"kto"'m', "I'll paddle your 
canoe, while you are shooting." The youth consented, and they proceeded 
together. I"kto"'m\, after a while, said, "Brother, let me go across, while 
you are plucking the ducks." So he paddled across, tied the canoe, and 
climbed up a hill, from which he beheld a circle of forty lodges with one in 
the center. Approaching, he found a girl on the outskirts. "Are there 
any men here?" "We don't know what men are." "Who lives in the 
center of the circle?" "Two chief tainesses, who look after us. Go to 
them, they are our leaders." He entered the lodge and found some small 
swings inside. On the right side there was a young fox stra])ped to a 
pappoose-board, and on the left there was a rabbit. The rabbit jumped up, 
and counted cou}) on l"kto"'m\ which meant that he would belong to the 
chieftainess that was the rabbit's mother. So the rabbit-woman sat by 
I"kto"'m^ and handed him a bowl of pemmican, which he ate. When 
through eating, he returned the bowl, and asked, "What are these two here 
for?" "These are our children." "Are there any men here?" "No, 
we don't know what men are." The lodge was beautifully decorated with 
quill work; there were all kinds of work-bags inside. I"kto"'m' thought, 
"I am going to show them something." Sublata veste mentulam erectam 
eis demonstravit. The rabbit's mother first noticed it, and stooped down to 
look at it more closely. The other chieftainness also looked down. " Istud 
cjuid est, cui bono?" "Ad copulandum." "Qua in parte corporis coire 
oportet?" "Prope accedite, et vobis demonstrabo." Sublatis vestibus, 
earum cunnos indicavit. "In hunc locum si penem inseram, vobis dulce 
erit." Una in terram deposita, cum ea copulavit, tantamque ex eo delecta- 
tionem cepit ut iterum fieri vellet. Tum altera, "Ego quoque" inquit 
discere volo." Dum cum hac muliere coit, leporis mater mulieres omnes 
certiores fecit, et omnes quid esset coitus scire voluerunt. Cum eis invicem 
cout donee penis defatigatus est. IVIultae tamen virgines remanebant quae 



' Ft. Belknap. The central incident was recorded by Mr. Skinner among the Albany 
Cree. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 107 

coire vellent. lUe effugere voluit. "Post coitum vos gravidae eritis, in- 
fantes parietis, qui ex hoc orificio proficiscentur." Credere noluerunt. 
"Infantes" ait "mares et muliebres parietis. ]Mares sunt ([ui cum hac re 
pendula nascantur." I'^kto^'m' qui effugere voluit, "^lingere" ait "volo 
et cacare. Vos me mingentem adspicere non oportet." Tamen mulieres 
eum retinere voluerunt ut non effugiat. "Alae mihi absunt, non effugere 
possum, in hunc collem mincturus eo." He went away. When he got to 
the hill, he made a dash for the canoe. One woman saw him fleeing and 
gave the alarm. All rushed after him, but he had the start and reached the 
canoe. In vain the women tried to swim after him. ^^'hen he got to his 
companion, he said, "^Yell, brother, let us go on, I found nothing there but 
rocks." The women followed along the shore until the men became in- 
visible. 

7} 

In the fall the geese were flying. T'ktu'mni said, "I should like to fly 
with you." The geese said, "Flying is difficult." "I don't care, I wish to 
fly." Then eight of the geese took him up and began to fly, supporting him. 
Pktu'mni said, "We are having a good time." The geese knew what a 
trickster I"ktu'mni was. When they caught sight of a mud-hole, they 
dropped I"ktu'mni into it, and flew away. For several days I"ktu'umi 
stuck in the mud up to his waist. 



Sitco'^'ski said, "I am lonesome, let me travel with you, Eagle." Eagle 
agreed. They flew up towards the sky, but there Eagle left him alone on an 
icy mountain in the clouds. Sitco'^'ski begged to be taken down, but Eagle 
paid no attention to him. At last the ice began to melt. Sitco"'ski said, 
"I shall strike the earth in a soft spot." He fell head foremost into a 
swamp, w^here he stuck fast up to his hips. 

He began to plot against Eagle. He said to all the animals, "I shall 
turn myself into a moose. After that, don't eat fat from my hips." - When 
Eagle flew down, he wanted to eat some of the forbidden food, but he saw 
Sitco^'ski's eyes move, and drew back. At last he took a bite, then he ate 
more. Sitco'^'ski said, "I wished to be revenged on you, because you, 
abandoned me on the mountain." He arose, but Eagle })erished. 

The color of the eagle's head is due to his rubbing it against SitcoJi'ski's 
anus. 



1 Cf. Schoolcraft, p. 63 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 165 (Menomini). Mr. Skinner has col- 
lected a similar tale among the Albany Cree. 

2 Cf. Grinnell, (c), p. 147 (Blackfoot); J. O. Dorsey (d), p. 78 (Omaha); Hoffman, p. 203; 
(Menomini). 



108 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Ilistonj. [Vol. IV, 



In the fall Sitco"'ski was traveling by a l^ig lake. He heard gee.se making 
a noise near-by. Holding his hands before his face, he began to cry. The 
geese asked, "Why are you crying?" "I should like to fly home with you, 
because I hear you sing and laugh so much." They replied, "\Mien the 
Indians shoot at us, we have a hard time of it." Still Sitco"'ski persisted, 
and at last the geese consented to take him up. They started to fly. When 
they came near the Indians, the people cried, "That big goose is Sitco"'ski." 
They began to shoot at the birds. All the geese scattered, dropping Sitco"'- 
ski. While falling, he said, "I wish to land in a soft spot." He fell head 
over heels into a mud-hole, so that only his amis was visible. 

The mice saw it and said, "This looks like Sitco"'ski's anus." They 
informed the people. When they looked at it, they also said it looked like 
Sitco"'ski's anus. Then the mice attempted to crawl in, l)ut Sitco"'ski 
shook them off. Then they said, "It is surely his." 

10.1 

When I"ktu'mni had finally got out of the mud-hole, he sat down on a 
stone. He began talking to the rock. The rock asked him for a gift, 
which he refused. The rock got angry and caught l"ktu'mni, holding him 
for four days. I"ktu'mni vainly tried to free himself. At last he saw a 
flock of birds flying by. He begged them to help him. One of the birds 
said, "You have deceived all of us, I won't help you." I"ktu'mni said, 
"If you aid me, I will give you my best-looking daughter." The birds then 
flew up to the sky and came down again as swiftly as possible, causing a 
wind to blow. The rock began to move a little. They repeated this four 
times. The last time the rock was shattered to pieces. Then I"ktu'mni got 
up. "I have no daughter," he said. Then he walked off , 

11. 

I'^ktu'mni met a black bear near a large rock. He erected a sweat- 
lodge and said he wanted to sweat with the bear. Then he built a big fire 
and put hot stones into the lodge. "You go in first, Bear." Bear went in. 
I'^ktu'mni stopped up all the openings. Then he placed large logs around 
the lodge to prevent Bear's escape. When the heat had become intense, the 



1 This story, as told by one informant, directly follows 7. For the incident of the rock 
pursuer or captor, cf. Russell, p. 210 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 24 (Blackfoot); Lowie, 
p. 264 (Shoshone); Kroeber, (e), p. 70 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 69 (Arapaho); 
G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 143 (Arikara); Id., (a), p. 261 (Pawnee). The Uberation by birds 
occurs in all these versions except that of the Shoshone. 



1909.] Louie, The Assiniboine. 109 

Bear tried to get out, but I"ktu'mni laid him low with a club. He skinned 
the Bear, which was fat and furnished a good deal of grease. I^ktu'mni 
looked about, and asked some whiskey-jacks to get him a pot. After he had 
cooked the meat, he summoned all the animals, Avishing to distribute the food 
among them. 

As he was standing by a rock, the rock suddenly seized him so that he 
could not move. Frog noticed it, and informed everyone. "He is caught, 
he can't do anything." The animals ate up all the meat.^ I"ktu'mni was 
held fast for two days. Then he heard the noise of birds flying by. He 
promised to give one of his daughters to each of two birds, if they would 
break the stone for him. One bird said, "Perhaps you have no daughters 
and are only deceiving us." I"ktu'mni said, "No, it is true." Then the 
birds caused a wind to blow, which burst the rock, freeing I"ktu'mni. Then 
I"ktu'mni told them he had no daughters. 

12.- 

Fisher had taken some of Sitco"'ski's bear meat, and Sitco"'ski tracked 
him until he reached a body of clear water. Fisher was up in a tree, but 
Sitco"'ski saw his image in the water and dived down, but could not catch 
him. He looked around, still he saw Fisher in the same place. He dived 
again, then Fisher cried, "What are you looking for in the water?" "I am 
seeking shellfish for my grandchild." At last, he caught sight of Fisher 
eating the stolen meat. "Give me some bear meat." "Shut your eyes 
and open your mouth, and I'll give you some." The first time Fisher 
dropped a little piece. The second time he threw down a larger one". 
Sitco^'ski wanted a still larger one. "Shut your eyes tight and open your 
mouth, and I'll give you a large piece." Then Fisher dropped a knife into 
his mouth. Pktu'mni fell dead, but after five days he awoke again. 

13.^ 

I"ktu'mni was walking along the bank of a river. The water was clear 
and he was able to see berries in it. He plunged down, but could not find 
any. Then he made a bark rope and went in once more. After a long 



1 For the incident of the theft of the captive trickster's booty, cf. Russell, p. 208 (Cree) ; 
Grinnell, p. 172 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (d), p. 166 (Cheyenne); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 566 (Omaha) 
Kohl, II, p. 223 (Ojibwa); Jones, p. 287 (Fox); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 141 (Arikara); Id., (a), 
p. 248 (Pawnee); Id., (e) p. 281 (Wichita). 

2 Directly follows 11. 

3 Cf. Russell, p. 214 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 29 (Blackfoot); Lowie, p. 269 (Sho- 
shone); Kroeber, (e), p. 70 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 101 (Arapaho); J. O. Dorsey, 
(d), p. 562 (Omaha); Hoffman, p. 164 (Menomini); G. A. Dorsey, (e), p. 273 (Wichita). 



110 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Historif. [Vol. IV, 

time he came out again. He had nearly been drowned. He lay down on 
his back and then saw that the berries were right above him. He had 
merely seen their reflection in the water. He was very angry. 

14.1 

When restored to life, Sitco"'ski walked aAvay. He met a young hen in 
the woods. "What is your name?" "Hen." He asked again, "What 
is your name?" "My name scares everyone." Sitco"'ski said, "You 
can't scare me." He seized the chicken and defecated, then he threw it 
away. "See you can't frighten me." The old hen was angry. As 
Sitco"'ski was walking by the river, she flapped her wings near him, 
Sitco'^'ski was so scared that he fell into the river. - 

He swam for a long time, at last he managed to get out, and walked on. 
He was very angry and decided to kill whomsoever he could. He met 
Mink. ^Slink said, "There is a big fish in the water, let us try to kill it." 
]\Iink was eager to kill the fish, but did not know how. Sitco"'ski said he 
would kill it by a ruse. He went to a lake near-by and told the fish living 
there that the other fish was reviling him and calling him blind. Then the 
fish challenged his supposed abuser to a combat. "I'll help the weaker 
one," said Sitco"'ski. When one fish had killed the other, Sitco"'ski slew 
the victor. Then he said to Mink, "Go away, you shall not have any of 
the food." 

Sitco"'ski left the fish on a rock and went ofT for a drink and to get a pot. 
When Mink, who had been watching from the opposite shore, saw the meat 
-unguarded, he swam across, threw the two fish into the Avater and jumped 
in after them. When Sitco"'ski returned, he saw that the fish were gone. 
He saw Mink cutting them up at a distance, but could not shoot him. 

Sitco'^'ski was raging. He said to Thunder, "Everyone abuses you and 
myself. Do you know any way to kill all the people?" Thunder said, 
"Yes, I can cause a flood." Then he made it pour for a long time. Si- 
tco'i'ski made himself a wing, and ascended a high tree. All the animals 
without wings perished. Only the birds survived the flood. Sitco"'ski 
invited Eagle to live with him on a mountain-top. After four days Sitco'i'- 
ski got hungry, and requested Eagle to ask Thunder to stop the rain. Thun- 
der stopped the rain; there were many creeks then. Then Thunder bade 
them pick up all the dead, dry buffalo meat, and asked them to call him 
when they were done. Sitco^'ski kicked the bones of all the dead animals, 
bidding them wake up. Then all arose. One dead bufl"alo was left. Si- 



1 Directly follows 12. 

2 Cf. Teit, p. 629 (Shuswap); Russell, p. 211 (Cree). 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. ]]! 

tco"'ski took his meat and tlrietl it. Then Eagle told Thunder that the 
meat was ready, anil Thunder came down. All the animals were alive 
again. 

15. 

Sitco"'ski was bv a big lake and saw many geese on the opposite side. 
He went to the woods, filled two sacks with bark and carried them home on 
his back. He passed near the geese. The geese asked, "What have you 
there?" "If you do what I bid you, I'll tell you." The geese promi.sed 
to do whatever he wished. "Perhaps you won't do it." The geese were 
very curious, and agreed to anything. Sitco"'ski then told them his bags 
contained something for a dance-lodge. "You must dance in it with shut 
eyes." He un{)acked his bags, erected a willow-lodge, and covered it with 
bark. "When I begin to sing," he said, "I watch my door. Shut your 
eyes when you begin to dance." • He intoned the song. All shut their eves, 
and Sitco"'ski went from one bird to another, wringing their necks. One of 
the geese opened its eyes, and seeing what Sitco"'ski was doing, cried, "Let 
us flee, or we shall all be killed." The survivors fled to the lake, pursued 
by Sitco"'ski, and made their escape.' 

Sitco"'ski returned laughing. He cooked the dead geese. When he 
was done cooking. Fox approached. Seeing the food, he tied up one of his 
legs, pretended it was swollen, and began to hobble along on a staff. Si- 
tco"'ski, seeing that Fox was limping, cried, "Come here, brother." Fox 
came, and lay down panting. Sitco"'ski cut some brush and leaves to cover 
his food. Then he said, "Brother, let us run arountl the lake. Whoever 
wins, shall have the geese." Fox replied, "I have a sore leg, I can't run." 
Sitco"'.ski said, "I'll tie a large rock to both my feet." Fox then agreed to 
run, and was told to go ahead. He limped into the brush, while Sitco"'ski 
tied stones to his feet. Fox removed the padding put on to give a swollen 
appearance to his leg, and ran as fast as he could. Returning to the geese, 
he devoin-ed all the food, then he replaced the cover put over it. He went 
away to v.-here he could watch Sitco"'ski. At last Sitco"'ski arrived, per- 
spiring. He went to the geese, and picked up a bone, "Some one must have 
eaten this goose." He threw the bone away. Then he saw that only bones 
were left. He was very angry. - 

1 For the tale of the hoodwniked dancers, cf. Russell, p. 212 (Cree); Kroeber, (e), p. 71 
(Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber p. 59 (Arapaho); Kroeber, (d), p 165 (Cheyenne); Simms, 
p. 288 (Crow); Riggs, p. 113 (Dakota); J. O. Dorsey. (d), p. 67 (Omaha); G. A. Dorsey, (c), 
p. 9 (Osage); Schoolcraft, p. 30 (Ojibwa^; Hoffman, p. 204 (Menomini); Jones, p. 279 (Fox); 
G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 265. It has been recorded by St. Clair among the Comanche. 

- The tale of the trickster's race is recorded by Wissler and Duvall, p. 28 and Grinnell, 
(c), p. 156 (Blackfoot); by Kroeber, (d), p. 168 (Cheyenne); and Lowie, p. 274 (Shoshone). 
It was heard by the writer among the Cree. 



112 Anthropolugical Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

16.^ 

I"kto'^'m^ was walking along. He was so hungry that he could hardly 
walk. He got on a hill, and saw a large flock of ducks on the lake. He 
seized his knife, scratched himself, cut his hair, and took a pole for a cane. 
He Avas going to trick them. When he was close to the birds, he sat down 
and cried. One duck approached and asked, "Why are you crying?" "jNIy 
brother has been killed, and I am out to revenge his death, and don't care 
if I get killed myself. I heard that ahead of me there were my brethren, so 
I thought of asking them to accompany me. Go, tell your chief what I have 
told you. Tell him I want the biggest and fattest ducks to join my party, 
I do not want weak ones." The duck obeyed, and announced the message. 
The chief agreed to accompany I"kto"'m', and the messenger flew back to 
tell him so. 

Pkto'i'm^ walked towards them. "First I must mix tobacco." He 
mixed tobacco, put it in his pouch, picked up his pipe, and approached the 
ducks. The chief asked him what were his intentions, and he told him tiie 
same story as before. "But before we start, we will give a dance here. Are 
there any turtles in this lake?" "Yes." "If there were no turtles here, 
we could not have the dance." A duck flew to the Turtle and invit(>d him 
to watch the dance. I'^kto'^'m' told Turtle he was going to give him the 
dance, which he would thenceforth have the right to perform. Turtle was 
willing. I"^kto'^'m^ bade him stay in the center of the dance-ground. 
Then I^kto'^'m' bade the chief select the biggest ducks for the first circle. 
Outside of these were placed the next best, imtil four circles of dancers had 
been formed. When all were ready to start, I"kto"'m' said, "There is one 
rule in this dance which you must not break, or we shall not be able to per- 
form it. Not one of you must keep his eyes open, whosoever disobeys, will 
have red eyes. Turtle will tell you when to open your eyes." 

Everyone was ready. I^kto'^'m^ began to sing. They started dancing, 
making a noise as if swimming. "I shall sing here," said I^kto'^'m^ while 
walking around the first and second circles. While they were dancing, he 
seized their necks and wrung them without being observed. "Dance hard," 
he cried, "until Turtle bids you open your eyes !" Thus he killed the dancers 
of three circles. One duck in the fourth ring opened his eyes and cried, 
"I'^kto'i'mi is killing you off." Then the remainder flew away, but I"- 
kto'i'mi made their eyes red. All flew off, and Turtle made a dash for the 
water, but Pkto'^'m^ killed him with a pole. He yelled after the ducks, 
"I don't want any more of you." He was happy, plucked the ducks he had 
killed, and cooked them for a feast. 

1 Ft. Belknap. The first part of the tale, the episode of the hoodwinked dancers, was also 
obtained as a text. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 113 

Before being slain, Turtle warned I»kto'^'m' not to drink water for four 
days, but I^kto'^'mi had answered, "I can drink water any time." 

I'^kto'i'mi roasted one of the ducks. An old coyote came up, i)rctending 
to be lame and dragging along one of his legs. I'^kto'^'mi asked, "Brother, 
what are you looking for ? " "I was looking for food, but, jumping over the 
cut-bank, I injured my leg and can't get anything now." "I'll help you," 
said Inkto"'m\ "go to the cut-bank and say, 'I want to borrow a bucket.' 
A man from the inside of the bank will hand you one. Do not look at his 
face, but bring the bucket here." 

Coyote went to the bank, and acted according to his directions. A man 
handed him a copper bucket. He limped back with it, but I'^kto'^'m^ said, 
"Brother, this is not the one I want, this belongs to the chief's daughter, 
take it back." Coyote protested that it was hard for him to walk, but I^^k- 
to'^'m' said that unless he obeyed he would get nothing to eat. So Coyote 
returned the bucket and asked for another. This time he received a brass 
bucket of the same size, which he brought to I"kto"'m'. "Is this it?" 
"No, take it back, I want another one." Coyote returned it, and got a large 
white one, but I^kto'^'m^ said, "It belongs to the chief's wife, take it back 
and ask for his mother-in-law's." Coyote said, "You should have told me 
that before, it is hard for me to walk." I^kto^'m^ thought he might kill 
Coyote by tiring him out. "Go on," he said, "hurry now." Coyote went 
and asked for the mother-in-law's bucket. He received a very large and 
dirty one with a rawhide grip, dotted with holes which were plugged with 
buffalo skin. When he brought it back, I'^to^'m^ said, "You have the 
right one now." I^kto^'m^ took it and asked whether Coyote was able to 
fetch water. Coyote said he could not, so I^kto^'m^ went himself, and sus- 
pended the water-bucket from a tripod. He cooked all the fowl, and when 
ready, he placed them on the ground. Three bucketfuls were thus cooked 
and laid on the ground. When all the ducks had been cooked, I"kto"'m' 
was perspiring from his exertions. Coyote was lying down, feigning ex- 
haustion. I"kto^'m^ sat down on a large rock, and wiped his forehead. He 
was going to invite Coyote to join him in the feast, but found he could not rise, 
because he was sticking fast to the rock. Addressing the rock in a low voice, 
he said, "Brother, let me go, we'll feast together." The rock did not reply, 
nor did it release him. Coyote said, "You had better come and eat." 
I"kto»'m> said, "There is no hurry, I'll give you something." Coyote, 
however, discovered what was the matter, ran to a hill, growled, and ran 
back again. A large pack of wolves and coyotes, which had thus been 
notified, came and ate up all the food. I'^kto'^'mi begged to have some left 
for himself, but they paid no attention to him. When they were through 
eating, they ran away. 



114 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Histori/. [Vol. IV, 

I"kto"'m'' was crving. He saw some bi'ek" (l)irds with white-spotted 
wings). He called them, saying, "Brethren, come down I wish to sj)eak to 
von." "Xo, we know what you are, we don't wish to be fooled l)y you." 
He finally persuaded them to fly down and listen to him. Then he l)egged 
them to knock the rock asunder. "If you do this for me, I will paint a 
white mark on your wings." The birds agreed to do as he asked. They 
flew high up into the air, then came down again, and striking the rock, broke 
it apart. The birds said, "If you do not fidfil your promise, we will never 
free you again." I"kto"'m' took some white earth and marked their wings 
with it. Then they flew away. 

I"kto"'m' looked around for some remains of the ducks, but coidd not 
find any. Coyote appeared in the distance, and cried, "I got the bucket for 
you. You think you can fool anyone, but I have fooled you. On your 
way yoti will be fooled again." "No," said r'kt()"'ni', "nothing will fool 
me again." 

He walked on, recollecting Turtle's warning. For three days he ab- 
stained from water, though he was dying of thirst. On the fourth day he 
could no longer restrain himself. He saw an owl sitting on a hill. "Brother, 
I am dying for water, I don't like to drink the ordinary water, make rain for 
me." The Owl caused rain to fall. I"kto"'mi went on, considering where 
to drink. He reached a water-hole with clear water, looked down, l>ut 
decided not to drink. He found water on a big rock, looked at it, was 
going to drink, but refrained, saying, "I have stuck fast to a rock like this 
one." He got to another water-hole with reeds rising from the surface. 
He looked at it for a while; unable to resist he stooped down, but before 
touching the water with his lips, he drew back again. At last, he pushed 
the reeds aside and began to drink, but a large turtle seized his lips. 
"Brother," said I^kto^'mi, "let me go, I want to drink; we can play after- 
wards." "No," said Turtle, "I'll hold on for four days." I"kto"'m' said, 
"There are very few animals that get the better of me, I'll get rid of you 
somehow." He picked up the Turtle and walked on. When tired, he 
lay down. He did this repeatedly. He was looking for some trees. Seeing 
some in the distance, he walked toward them. He sat down, took off his 
pouch, filled his big pipe, and began to smoke. While he was smoking, 
Turtle got uncomfortable on account of the heat of the pipe, and moved to 
one side. I^kto^'m' noticed it and thought, "The Turtle must be afraid of 
fire." So he moved his pipe near Turtle's anus. Turtle continued to edge 
away, saying, "You had better stop smoking, let us go on." But Inkto^'mi 
refused, and continued puffing hard. Suddenly he almost pushed his pipe 
into Turtle's anus, and the Turtle released him. I^kto^'mi turned him on his 
back, and rolled a big rock on top of him. He picked up wood and built a 



1909.] Loivie, The Asslniboine. 115 

fire. The Turtle begged to be freed, and offered to helj) him. r'kto"'m^ 
refu-sed. He toolv the rock away, but he hekl the Turtle'.s anus against the 
fire. Tlie Turtle was in agony. I"kto"'m^ said, "I shall continue doing 
this for four days, then I will let you go." He took him up, and burnt him 
slightly. Then he said, "If you are willing to do something, I .shall release 
you." "What is it ?" "There will be people in this world. If you promi.se 
never to bite any of them as you have bitten me, I will let you go." The 
Turtle promised never to bite anyone, even if trodden on. Four times he had 
to promise, then I"kto"'m^ released him. Turtle made for the water, fol- 
lowed by I"kto"'m'. He dived in without saying anything. "It is well," 
said I"kto"'m', "he is not abusing me." Since then the turtles have not 
bitten anybody. 

17. 

I"ktu'mni had killed many geese and was cooking them. He was per- 
spiring from the heat of the fire, when Fox came along. Fox knew that 
I"ktu'mni was a trickster. He pretended to be lame. "Come here," said 
I"ktu'nnii. Fox said, "I can't walk much, talk to me here." At last he came 
closer. I"ktu'mni said, "Let us run a race for those geese." Fox said, 
"I can't run at all." Then I"ktu'mni proposed to tie a big stone to his foot, 
and Fox consented to rim. Fox limped along at first, but when he got to 
the other side of the hill, he ran as swiftly as a bird, returned to the goal, and 
ate up the geese. After a long while I"ktu'mni returned, not knowing that 
Fox had beaten him. He removed the grass cover he had left on the food, 
but found nothing but bones. He was very angry and began to revile Fox. 
Fox, who had been watching him, just laughed and walked away. I"ktu'- 
mni went to a big lake, where he saw Fox sleeping on the other bank. He 
built a big fire to kill him. Fox woke up and said, "Put out that fire." 
"You ate all my geese, I am going to burn you up right here." When the 
fire ap{)roached Fox, he jumped over the flames and escaped, laughing at 
F'ktu'mni. 

18.^ 

Once I"ktu'mni found a great number of eggs, which he cooked. He 
decided to sleep before eating them, so he piled the eggs up in a heap, lay 
down with his buttocks towards them, and said to his buttocks, "Watch the 
eggs and wake me up if anyone comes near them." He fell asleep. A man 
came. The buttocks saw him, but he beckoned to them not to give warning. 
He ate up all the eggs, leaving the shells in a heap. Then he said, "I am 



1 Cf. Russell, p. 213 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 26 (Blackfoot); Dorsey and Kroeber, 
p. 60 (Arapaho); Hoffman, p. 163 (Menomini). 



116 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

going to the other side of the hill. You can wake him up when I get there." 
The man watched from the hill. Then the buttocks awoke I'^ktu'mni, 
saying, "Someone has come." l"ktu'mni could not see anyone. He 
picked up one egg and saw it had been broken. "Someone must have 
eaten this egg." When he found that all the eggs were gone, he was furious. 
"I'll get even with you," he said to the buttocks. He piled up wood, and 
built a big fire. Straddling it, he tried to burn his buttocks by way of punish- 
ment. He burnt them to grease. Then he walked awav. He thought he 
was going in a straight line, but as he was walking in a circle, he returned to 
the starting point. He mistook his own track for someone else's. When he 
saw his burnt-up buttocks, he took them for dry meat and began to eat them. 
When only a small piece was left, he suddenly discovered that he had been 
eating his own buttocks. He tried to vomit, Init could not get them out. 

19. 

Sitco"'ski was traveling. He saw a female marten sleeping so as to ex- 
pose her genitals. Sitco"'ski touched her, saying, "My grandmother is dead, 
this is a mark made by a stick." The marten awoke. "My grandson, what 
are you doing there ? " "I thought you were dead." He walked on. After 
a while, he smelt his hand. "Its smell is like that of genitals." He saw a 
lynx sleeping. He was about to gratify his lust, but the lynx woke up 
and seized him. Sitco'^'ski begged to be released, and was allowed to go. 
He saw a weasel and some mice fighting. He laughed. One mouse said 
to him, "Tell them to stop fighting." They agreed to stop, if they received 
some berries. 

20.^ 

Sitco"'ski walked on. He heard dancing and drumming. Walking 
in the direction of the noise, he found a buffalo skull. In it there were some 
dancing mice. "Let me come in, brethren." "You can't come in." 
Sitco'^'ski put his head in and watched for a while, then he got drowsy and 
fell asleep. The mice went away. When he awoke he could not extricate 
his head. He stood up with the skull and called for aid. He could not see 
at all, and, walking ahead, he fell into a river. He stayed there for two 
days, at last he got the skull off. 

21. 
Sitcon'ski heard the sound of dancing and drumming. He looked for 

1 Follows 19. Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 32. (Blackfoot ) ; Kroeber, (e), p. 68 (Gros Ventre) ; 
Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 107 (Arapaho); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 137 (Arikara). 



1909.] Lou'ie, The Assiniboine. ] \ J 

the dancers, but could not find any. At last he found a bufi'alo skull. 
Inside there were little mice, which were dancing. Sitco"'ski said, "I should 
like to get in, you look well." "You can't get in, the door is too small." 
Sitco"'ski stuck his head in to see the dance. He got drowsy, and fell 
asleep. The mice chewed up his hair, ran away, and left him with his liead 
stuck in the skull. When Sitco"'ski awoke, he saw no one around. He 
could not draw out his head. He heard the sound of a river gliding by, and 
with a stick he groped his way towards it. He reached a gully, and broke 
the skull against some rocks. He found that he was cjuite bald, for the 
mice had chewed up all his hair. He was very angry and called them bad 
names. 

22.^ 

Sitco'^'ski walked away. He met birds playing with their eyes, throwing 
them on a tree and making them come back again. Sitco"'ski said, "Let 
me try this, my brethren." "Your eyes are too strong, it will not be good 
for you." Sitco'^'ski insisted. Then the birds told him to pull out his eyes. 
He threw them up, and they remained hanging on the tree. "Shake the 
tree, and they will fall back in their places." He shook the tree, and the 
eyes returned to their sockets. "You must throw both at the same time 
now." He obeyed. Then his eyes did not return. He could not find them. 
He looked for some pitch. Finding some, he rubbed it between his palms 
and made new eyes. 

23.- 

I'^kto^'mi was walking through a forest. He heard someone yelling 
ahead of him. As he approached, he found four boys playing around a pine. 
Unobserved, he stole up close to them and watched their game. One took 
out his right eye and threw it up a tree. It bounced back from branch to 
branch, and returned to its socket. Then the player did the same with his 
other eye. All four took turns at the game. I'^kto'^'m^ walked up to them. 
They asked him what he had come for. I^kto^'mi answered, "I heard you 
playing, and I wished to see what kind of a game you were playing." They 
showed him the game once more, yelling whenever an eye came down. 
I^^kto^'mi said, "I wish to join you." "We'll let you play. Stand close 
to the tree, throw up your right eye, and just look at it as it descends." He 
obeyed, and his eye returned to its socket. Then he threw his left eye up 
and it came down less rapidly, being arrested on the branches; finally, how- 

1 Follows 20, was followed by a version of 9, after which the narrator told 25. 

Cf. Teit, p. 632 (Shuswap); Russell, p. 215 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 29 (Blackfoot); 
Kroeber, (e), p. 70 (Gros Ventre); Kroeber, (d), p. 168 (Cheyenne). 

2 Ft. Belknap. 



118 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Hisiorij. [\o\. l\ , 

ever, it fell back to its place. "Let me try again." He did the same thing 
a second time. They said they would give him the power to do the trick, 
but he must not do it often. "No," said he, "I'll just do it once more." 
And he did. After again warning him, the boys said, "Brother, we will 
show you something else." I"kto"'m' said he would l)e glad to learn. One 
of the four boys sat down, and with a knife cut off his feet and began to 
whittle his legs to a point. Then he jumped into the brush, calling the 
antelope by name. In the meantime, the other three boys covered up his 
feet with a robe. They went into the brush and found a dead antelope with 
a stick through it. Sharpened-leg's l)ody was in the animal. He returned 
to life again, and one of his comrades went through the same procedure, 
calling an elk. They found, and feasted on, a big male elk. I"kto"'m' was 
looking at the third boy, who did the same as his companions, calling a bear. 
The fourth boy jumped into the l)rush after sharj)ening his legs and calling 
an u"pa' ( ?), and the others found a dead u"pa'. The boys told I"kto"'m' 
they woidd give him the ])ower to perform the same trick whenever he was 
hungry, but it would always be necessary for someone else to be ])resent. 
Once more they warned him against too often throwing his eyes. He thanked 
them and left. 

As .soon as he was .some distance from them, I"kto"'m' went to a pine 
tree, cleared the ground around it, put down his blanket, took out one eye, 
and threw it up. It remained there. The boys had told him to cast the 
second eye up in such a case. I"kto"'m' did so, and both eyes returned. 
He tried again. The first eye remained on the tree. When he threw the 
other eye up, it did not come down either. I"kto"'m' was suffering; his 
sockets were dry. One boy heard him. "That T'kto^'m^ must have done 
something wrong, let us help him." They found him crying. He said his 
eyes were lodged in the tree. "How many times did you throw them up?" 
"Once." "\ou lie." Nevertheless, one of them threw one of his eyes up, 
and both I"kto'^'m^'s returned to their sockets. Then they took away the 
eye-juggler's power from him. He still tried the trick, but coukl not per- 
form it. 

Pkto^'m' thought he had better try the other trick. He sharpened his 
knife, whittled off his feet, covered them with his robe and sharpened his 
legs, although there was no one present. He named the antelojie, and 
leapt into the brush. He found an antelope, came to life again, and ate the 
meat. He thought he would try again, named the bear, and jum])e(l in, 
but was caught in a tree. No bear came, and he began to cry. The four 
boys, who had thought he might get killed, had been tracking him. They 
found him hanging. "You have done wrong, we'll take your power away. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assinihoine. 119 

If you whittle vour leg again, you will merely have a pointed lew." Jnl^. 
to"'m' got frightened and never tried the trick again. ^ 

Sitco"'ski was walking by a creek. He saw a beaver sleeping near her 
dam on the opposite side. Vulva conspecta cum ea coire voluit. Avem 
hoc modo allocutus est: "Mentulam meam in mulieris vaginam insere." 
Avis mentulam in umbilicum inseruit. "Altius quam decet inseris, inferius 
inserere oportet." Tunc infra cunnum inseruit. "Altius inserere oportet." 
Avis iterum in umbilicum inseruit. The beaver woke up and dived into 
the water. Sicto^'ski said, "Why did n't you sleep a little longer ?" He was 
very angry. 

25. 

A mink traveling in the water espied a she-beaver lying on her back. 
Conspecto cunno cum ea coire concupivit. INIentulam in vaginam inseruit. 
Iterum coiit. Coitu complete castor sub acjuam rediit. The mink walked 
off, sed femina iterum conspecta, iterimi cum ea coiit. Sitco"'ski was pass- 
ing by the river. He saw the mink in the water with the beaver. " ^Nlentula 
insere" ait " in castoris cunnum." (There follows a version of 24.) 

26.3 

Sitco'^'ski, being angry at Beaver, opened her house and eased himself 
there. He took away the two young beavers. Beaver was very angry 
when she found out. ^yhen Sitco"ski went to a creek, Beaver got into the 
water. Sitco^ski was afraid to drink, although he was very thirsty.* He 
perished from thirst. After a while a bird came and defecated on his head. 
Then ^Magpie came and said, "^ly brother, what is the matter, why are you 
lying down here? Wake up!" Sitco'\ski awoke. "I have slept a long 
time," he said. 

27. 

In the fall Sitco"'ski offered to stay with Beaver. Beaver said, "It is 
pretty hard to stay with me in the winter, when the ice is thick." Xever- 

1 The Sharpened-Leg motive is here combined with the idea of the triclister's unsuccessful 
imitation of beings endowed with magical power. In other combinations it is very common 
among the Stoneys. Cf. pp. 184, 185, 186. 

2 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 36 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 68 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey 
and Kroeber, p. 63 (Arapaho). 

3 Follows 24. 

4 Cf. Simms, p. 287, (Crow). 



120 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

theless, Sitco»'ski insisted on staying. In the si)nng Beaver made a hole 
in the ice and came out. Once when he was gone for some willows, Sitco"'ski 
stole the young beaver and ran away. On his return Beaver found his son 
gone. "I'll punish you when I catch you," said he. He looked for Sitco^^'- 
ski, until at last he found him roasting and eating the young beaver. When 
through eating, Sitco"'ski went for a drink. He lay down by the water, 
but Beaver was in there, and with his mouth approached Sitco^'ski's, who 
fell back in a fright. He tried to get a drink in several spots, but every- 
where Beaver frightened him off. He went far off and stooped down, but 
this time Beaver nearly bit him. Then shutting his eyes, he took a drink. 
Beaver caught his lips and would not let them go. He bit Sitco'^'ski all 
over his face. Sitco"'ski howled with pain, 

28.^ 

Sitco"'ski was jnissing some big trees. Between two of them tliere was 
a large rock. Sitco"'ski said, "]\Iove away, I wish to pass here." I'he 
rock refused. Again Sitcon'ski asked it to move, and again it refused. 
Sitco"'ski said, "I'll sit down here. Whichever of us two gets up first, 
shall be killed." The rock said, "I can sit here for a long time, I am cov- 
ered with moss." Sitco"'ski waited several days for the rock to move. On 
the sixth day he began to abuse the rock. Then he arose and walked 
away. The rock pursued him. Sitco"'ski climbed a steep hill, the rock 
rolled up after him. He forded a river, but the rock still followed. He 
tried to cover his tracks, but the rock always found them. At last he climbed 
a high tree. The rock at first went by, but returned and split th(^ tree in 
two. Sitco"'ski tumbled down, and the rock rolled over him and held him 
fast. Sitco'^'ski begged to be released, but in vain. He was beginning to 
starve. He cried aloud, "This rock wants to kill you," l)ut no one heard 
him. At last he heard the noise of thunder. He cried, "Thunder, this 
rock wants to kill you too." Thunder heard him and split the rock into 
pieces. 

29. 

Sitco'^'ski desired to marry a pretty girl. Her father said, "You may 
marry her, but don't embrace her for four nights." On the first night 
Sitco^'ski obeyed wilhngly. The second night he desired to embrace her. 

1 In another Stoney version, Sitcon'ski promises the rock his blanket, provided he shoots 
a moose. He kills the moose and gives up the robe, but cannot sleep from cold. Accordingly, 
lie takes the robe away from the rock, which pursues and holds him until smitten by the Thunder. 
The story ends with the statement: "Sitco'-'ski is ahve now, though he is old. His face is 
young, but his hair is gray." 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 121 

Tertia nocte coire conatus est. The girl disappeared, meiitula glaciei 
haesit. Sitco"'ski went to his father-in-law, but the old man said, "Go 
away, you have disobeyed." Sitco'^'ski went home. He saw a woman's 
tracks and followed them. After a while he met a buffalo-cow, which ran 
away to her camp. Sitco'^'ski pursued her, and the buffalo chief ordered 
her to stay with Sitco^i'ski. One day the Indians made a pound. They 
caught buffalo, and Sitco^^'ski among them. They released him, but the 
next time he was caught they killed him with the animals. 

30. 

Sitco"'ski had a beaver-skin coat. One day he was trapping animals. 
Suddenly he became frightened. He returned from his traps, and found 
two young wolverenes in his tent. He said, "I don't like to see you, you 
are thieves. Go home, or I '11 kill you." He took his coat and went to a 
deadfall. Walking on snowshoes, he reversed the points in order to mis- 
lead the wolverenes. He went into a thick wood, and hung his coat up on 
a tree. After a while he returned, and saw wolverene tracks. His coat 
was gone. He pursued the wolverenes, but his moccasins were worn out 
and he was obliged to go home for new ones. He was very angry and did 
not sleep all night. In the morning he pursued the wolverenes. They 
had climbed a steep, woody slope and fallen asleep there. Sitco"'ski saw 
his coat and thought of recovering it while the wolverenes were asleep. He 
approached on snowshoes, but was caught among the gnarled roots and 
could not free himself. The wolverenes awoke and fled with the stolen 
coat. As soon as Sitco'^'ski could get away, he pursued them, but l)roke 
his shoes in the forest. He was completely exhausted. He built a fire. 
He could hear the wolverenes singing and beating time with their bows. 
He had to return home with frozen feet. All winter he was furious. In 
the spring he again thought of catching the thieves. He went to their 
camp, where he found two girls at play. "Where do the wolverenes live 
that stole my coat?" The girls pointed out their lodge. He approached, 
but a woman in the lodge espied him and warned those inside. Sitco"'ski 
stood at the door, seized one of the wolverenes, and burnt up all his hair 
in the fire. "This is what you get for stealing my coat," he said. 

31.^ 

Sitco"'ski was standing by a river and saw a bear on the opposite bank. 
"Come, chase me!" he cried. The bear swam across. Sitco"'ski made 

1 Russell, p. 209 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 32 (Blackfoot); Lowie, p. 277 (Shoshone). 



122 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xatural Histonj. [\o\. IV, 

a bow and arrows, but they were of bad wood. He shot his arrows at 
the bear, but they all broke to pieces. Sitcon'ski ran away when the bear 
emerged from the water. The bear nearly caught him. Sitco"'ski ran 
around the stump of a tree. He found an old bufi'alo skull lying there 
covered with moss. When completely exhausted, he kicked the skull uj) 
from the ground, put it on his head, and faced about as if to hook the bear 
with the horns. The bear turned around and fled. Sitco"'ski wiped the 
perspiration from his face. "I thought you wished to fight. What are 
you running away for?" 

32. 

Sitco"'ski had moscpiitoes all over his face. He erected a lodge, still 
they stayed in his nose. He tried to remove them with a stick, but they 
remained inside. They also attacked his eyes. He tried to fan them off, 
he made smudge, still they would not go away. At last he ran into the 
brush (?). There they did not follow him. That is how he got rid of 
them. 

33. 

Sitco'^'ski used to walk along the bank of a river. He saw a butt'alo 
skull lying there. W^henever he passed it, he kicked it into the water, but 
he invariably found it in exactly the same position the next time. He 
wished to find out the reason. Once he burnt the skull and pounded it 
into powder, which he threw away, but the next time he again found the 
head in the old place. "This is queer," he thought. He burnt it up again, 
and lay down to sleep a short distance from the remains. He heard some- 
thing like a buffalo's footsteps. Looking about, he could not see anything. 
He went to sleep once more; again he heard the noise, but could not see 
anything on looking up. "I must be mad, I'll sleep and won't open my 
eyes until it is near-by." When the noise approached, he looked up, but 
saw nothing. The fourth time he heard the sound he said, "I won't look 
any more." He did not look, at last he heard snorting and felt something 
puffing in his face. Looking up, there was an old buffalo preparing to 
hook him. Sitco'i'ski fled, pursued by the buffalo, which nearly caught 
him. Sitco^'ski cried for help. He saw a hard rock and ran towards it. 
It had a crack, which admitted him and then closed up. The buffalo be- 
gan to lick the rock with his tongue until it was worn down to a small size. 
Then Sitco^^'ski fled to a stump and sought shelter in its hollow. The 
buffalo hooked the tree and split it apart. Sitco^'ski fled; once the tip of 
the buffalo's horns just caught him and he yelled. He asked a willow to 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 123 

helj) him, twisted its trunk into a swing and swung back and foi-tli, avoid- 
ing the buffalo's horns. Then the buffalo twisted the willow until it broke. 
Sitco'^'ski cried, "Let me go, brother!" and again ran away. He came to 
a big lake and plunged in. The buffalo began to lap it up until Sitco"'ski 
was left high and dry on the mud. He could not run, but only crawled on 
his hands and feet. The buffalo pursued him. Sitco"'ski said, "I '11 give 
you tobacco, let me go." "You kicked my skull every time you passed, 
hurry up and get me tobacco." "What sort of tobacco would you like to 
have?" The buffalo told him, then Sitco'i'ski cut some willow-bark, 
made tobacco, and gave it to the buffalo, who lit it by holding it towards 
the sun. Then he let Sitco"'ski alone. 

34.1 

Lepori l"ktu'mni, "Qui nostrum" ait "primus dormiet, cum illo alter 
coeat." Rabbit agreed. I"ktu'mni fell asleep first. Quo conspecto Lepus 
cum eo dormiente copulavit, then he went away. When I"ktu'mni awoke, 
he felt a pain. He said, "Where is that Rabbit? He has hurt me." He 
walked along. Paullo ])ost cacavit; ex ano lepus parvus exsiluit. Iterum 
cacavit, lepus alius exsiluit, cjuem prehendere non potuit. Tunc toga anum 
texit ut leporem qui proxime exiret prehenderet. Sed nihil aliud ac excre- 
menta fecit, quae togam incjuinaverunt. 

35. 

Four Cree went to visit Sitco'^'ski by the sea." After they had traveletl 
a while, they heard the beating of a drum. "We '11 get there by to-morrow," 
they said. They expected to reach the place in the morning, but they were 
mistaken. The next night they again heard drumming and singing, ap- 
parently at a very short distance. They expected to reach Sitco^'ski the 
next day, but again failed to do so. The third night, the same experience 
was repeated. At last, on the fourth evening, they arrived at Sitco"'ski's. 
"What are you traveling about for?" Sitco"'ski asked them. One Cree 
answered, "I should like to live forever." The second man said, "I should 
like to marry your daughter." The remaining two asked for medicine. 
Sitco^'ski asked, "How many days will you stay in my house?" They 
said they would stay four days. Sitco"'ski made smoke, put it on his 
hands, seized the first Cree, rubbed him, and turned him into a stone. To 

1 Cf. Kroeber, (e), p. 67 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 65 (Arapaho); J. O. 
Dorsey, (d), p. 41 (Omaha). 

2 After his departure from the Indians, Sitcon'ski is believed to have taken up his abode on 
an island, where he is still living. 



124 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

the second Cree Sitco^'ski gave his daughter, warning him not to touch her 
for four days. For two nights the man obeyed, but on the third night he 
approached her. She disappeared, returning to her father.^ The two 
other Cree received many medicines and roots; this is how the Cree Indians 
got their medicines. On leaving, the visitors thought they had only stayed 
four days, but they had tarried four years.- 

This is the last that was ever heard of Sitco^'ski. ^ 

36. 

Some Indians saw Sitco"'ski digging for roots. One asked him, "What 
are you digging for?" "I am looking for every kind of medicine." One 
of the Indians asked for some medicine. Sitco^'ski rubbed him between 
his hands, transforming him into a stone. To the other Indians he gave 
medicines. That is how the Indians obtained their roots. 

After some time four other Stoneys visited Sitco"'ski. They arrived 
at his house and noticed some logs lying near-by. One of them said, "Those 
logs must be Sitco"'ski." The Indians examined Sitco"'ski's drum and his 
paint. They had nothing to eat and were beginning to starve. Sitco^'ski 
told his two sisters to get some Saskatoon berries for his visitors. Each 
of the women had a son. Before leaving, they made swings for the children, 
then they went berrying. While they were gone, Sitco"'ski killed the boys, 
covered their faces with fat, and departed. When the women returned, one 
of them cried, "Look sister, our boys are dead, our brother must have killed 
them." Sitco'^'ski had made a hole in the ground, and his head was peep- 
ing out. The women pursued him. He made a tunnel underground and 
came out by another opening. When his sisters were inside, Sitco"'ski 
covered up the hole and suffocated them with smoke. He sent the four 
Indians home.'' 

37.^ 

Sitco'^'ski was living with his wife and two grown-up daughters. Con- 



1 Cf. p. 120, where Sitco">'ski himself is the disobedient son-in-law. 

2 The "day-year" motive is found in Montagnais mythology (Jesuit Relations, 1636, Vol. 9, 
p. 125). Cf. also Schoolcraft, p. 285 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 206 (Menomini); Jones p. 333 
(Fox). 

3 In another version, the visitors are Ojibwa. Sitco^'ski pretends to be dead, but finally 
takes pity on them and gives them roots growing out of his head, which become the Indians' 
medicines for trapping beaver, lynx and marten. 

* This is obviously a confused and fragmentary version. The killing of the boys, and 
afterwards of their mothers, is found in Wissler and Duvall, p. 30 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), 
p. 70 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 102 (Arapaho); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 562 (Omaha). 

5 This story was also told to the writer at Edmonton by a Cree half-breed from Lac la 
Biche. Cf. Teit, p. 639 (Shuswap); Kroeber, (e), p. 73 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, 
p. 82 (Arapaho), Lowie, p. 248 (Shoshone). 



1909.] Lome, The Assiniboine. 125 

spectis filiarum vulvis, majore frui voluit quod major esset ei vulva. He 
said to his wife, "I am sick. When I die, burv me in the trees. Don't 
stay near the grave, but look for people. If you see a handsome young 
man, give him our daughter in marriage." He feigned being dead. He 
was buried in accordance with his directions. The first day after his burial 
his wife went to visit him and found the corpse in the right place, but on 
the following day it was gone. Sitco'^'ski, however, had told Coyote to 
pretend having eaten the corpse. So Coyote told Sitco"'ski's wife, and she 
believed it. After a while, Sitco"'ski came to the camp, dressed as a young 
man. The mother said to her older daughter, "You heard what your 
father said, call the youth inside." They brought him in, but the younger 
girl said, "That man is my father." The old woman answered, "Your 
father died long ago." After three or four nights, however, she discovered 
that it was really her husband. Then she seized a club and was going to 
beat him, but Sitco"'ski ran off laughing. 

38.1 

Sitco"'ski was traveling along, dressed in his daughter's clothing. He 
met people at a camp, and among them there was a youth unknown to 
women. Sitco^'ski desired to marry him, and they lived together. After 
some time Sitco"'ski pretended to be pregnant. In reality he had caught 
a fox and was hiding it under his clothes. He told his husband, "I am 
going. to give birth to a child. Don't look, go outside." He took out the 
fox and forbade his husband to look at their child for four days. The 
young man was eager to see his son, but vSitco'^'ski always carried him about. 
One day he forgot to do so and left the baby in the lodge. The husband 
entered and found that it was only a fox. He hurled it against a lodge 
pole. The fox then ran ofl^. The young man was furious, but Sitco'^'ski 
made his escape. Turning around to his husband's sister, mentulam 
suam demonstravit. 

39. 

Sitco'^'ski once met an old woman and married her. After a while he 
bade her make moccasins, as he wanted to travel. She offered to accompany 
him, but he said she could not walk fast enough. He set out. After a 
while he got to a camp. He told them his wife had been unable to give him 
a blanket, so the people gave him one. He traveled on, and reached another 
camp. He said, "My wife says she can't get herself a dress." They gave 
him a dress. In the same way he obtained leggings. He traveled on. 



1 Cf. Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 97 (Arapaho); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 266 (Pawnee). 



126 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

Before getting to the next camp, he })ut on the woman's dress and approached 
a girl, who was chopping wood. "My sister-in-law, you are cutting wood 
here?" "Yes." "I hear your brother is unknown to women, I have come 
here to marry him." The two went home together. The girl called her 
father. "I have brought a wife for my brother." "Bring her in." The 
young man did not like women. He was away hunting at the time. Sit- 
co^'ski sat down on his bed. When the youth returned and saw a woman 
on his bed, he refused to go in, but at last entered. "What kind of a woman 
is this?" "We found her when we were cutting wood." So he married 
Sitco"'ski. 

After a while Sitco"'ski pretended to be pregnant. His sisters-in-law 
then asked him not to work too much lest he injure the child. He replied, 
"If a pregnant woman works hard, she will have an easy delivery." Once 
when he was cutting wood, he saw a little fox. He caught it and kept it, 
bidding it cry like a little baby. He plucked off its hair and rolled it up in 
his dress. When they had got near home, the fox began to cry. The old 
man was glad to have a grandchild. "Give me my grandchild." Sitco"'- 
ski said, "No, I have not washed it yet." He took it to his own lodge. 
"AVash him quickly, I want to see my grandchild." "Wait awhile, then 
I'll wash him." He cooked meat first. The young man came home. His 
mother said, "INIy daughter-in-law has given birth to a child. We told her 
to wash it immediately, but she has not done so." The young man asked, 
"Why don't you wash him?" "Wait awhile." "When are you going to 
wash him?" "When a woman gives birth to a child, she does not wash it 
on the same day, l)ut on the following day." The next morning the old 
woman prepared warm water and bade her son bring the child. Sitco"'ski 
refused to hand it to him. At last he caught it, Sitco"'ski pulling in the 
opposite direction. The fox jumped out and ran away, pursued l>y Sitco"'- 
ski. The old people were angry. Sitco"'ski began to laugh. "No woman 
has ever known you, that is why I deceived you." He called his sister-in- 
law et mentulam longam suam monstravit. 

He escaped. He met a deer. "What are you hunting for, jumping- 
deer?" "I am just looking around." "I have been traveling a long 
time," said Sitco"'ski, "I have never been back home since I started out, 
I'll go there now." He returned to his old wife. "I have been away a 
long time," he said to her; "the people gave me a young wife, that's why I 
have not got home sooner." 

40. 

Sitco"'ski was traveling along. He got to a patch of red berries.^ "What 

1 In one version, their name was given as Wajin'kta, for which no translation could be secured. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 127 

is your name?" "Just Berries." "Everything has two names." Tin- 
berries said they were also called Scratch-Rump. Sitco^'ski began to eat, 
calling the berries by their name. When satisfied, he departed. After a 
little while he eased himself, and had to scratch his buttocks. x\fter some 
time the blood began to flow. He had to scratch himself continually. Sit- 
co^'ski got angry, he wished to put a stop to it. He built a big fire, and laid 
large flat rocks on it, until they were red-hot. Then he sat down on them 
in order to burn up his buttocks. He burnt them all up. Then he went 
aw^ay, but was hardly able to walk. Coming back by the same road, he 
saw a large piece of his burnt skin. He walked to some trees and put his 
skin on them, that is why there is gum on them now.^ 

41. 

Sitco"'ski saw a white root. He asked, "What is your name?" "Edi- 
ble Root." "You're my brother, what is your second name?" "I haven't 
any." "Everything has two names." "I have only one." "You must 
have two." At last the root said, "My second name is Wind." Sitco"'ski 
dug it up, and called it by this name. He ate many of the roots. After a 
while he began to break wind. "I should like to break more, this is great 
fun." Then he was carried several feet into the air. He continued break- 
ing wind, and rose higher each time. "My brother, I wish to break a little 
more wind, this is great fun." Finally he got frightened as he rose higher 
and higher. He tried to catch hold of some willows, but merely broke off 
their branches. Then he fell down, descending a foot into the ground. He 
rose still higher with the next wind, and tried to cling to some lofty trees, but 
merely broke them off. He wished he would fall on soft ground and fell into 
a mudhole, head foremost, so that only his feet extended above ground. His 
mouth and nose were filled with mud. Finally he got out. 

He traveled on, and found many snakes. "I have found plenty of 
whips," he cried. The snakes coiled around his legs, arms, and neck. He 
used one snake as a whip, breaking off its head. He used all the snakes in 
this wav. Thus he killed four hundred of them. 



42. 

Sitco^'ski got to a large lake and saw some plants growing in the water. 
He asked them, "What is your name?" "Reed (?)." "Everything has 

1 Cf. Kroeber, (e), p. 69 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 60 (Arapaho); Ibid., 
p. 60 (Cheyenne); Simms, p. 287 (Crow); Jones, p. 273 (Fox); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 138 
(Arikara); Id., (a), p. 271 (Pawnee); Id., (e), p. 280 (Wichita). Also heard by the writer 
among the Cree. 



128 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

two names." "]My second name is Big Wind." Sitco"'ski |)i(ke(l the 
plants, called them bv their second name, and began eating them. After a 
while the reeds said, "Don't eat any more; that's enough for you, the r^st 
is for other people." He continued to eat, then he walked on. He began to 
break wind. He rose a short distance into the air. " I like to break wind." 
He broke wind again, and rose a little higher. He saw an old woman on the 
road. When he came down, he said, "Some people want to kill us" two," 
then he packed her on his back, and ran away. Again he broke wind, and 
rose high in the air. Then he turned her loose. Both descended to the 
ground, and the old woman was killed. The reed said to Sitco"'ski, "You 
had better stop that." He broke wind again, and tried to remain near the 
ground by clinging to a rock, but the rock split, and he ascentled once more. 
The next time he tried to catch hold of a ])ine, but the tree ascended with him. 
He fell down, head over heels, and stuck in the ground up to his hi])s. That 
is how he stopped breaking wind. 

43. 

Sitco"'ski asked Skunk for some of liis filth so that he, too, might kill 
people. He gave him his wife in exchange, then he returned to camp. 
That night he did not sleep. The next morning he tried the filth on the 
stump of a tree. He used up all of it in splitting the trunk, instead of kill- 
ing his enemies with it. Sitco"'ski then tried to steal Skunk's wife. With 
his teeth he seized the woman's buttocks. She eased herself, and Sitco'^'ski 
was killed by the faeces. He woke up again, stole some skunk filth, and 
walked to a big tree, which he split, saying, "If I see a man, I am going 
to do the same thing to him." A passer-by overheard him, and asked, 
"What are you saying?" Sitco^'ski thought he still had plenty of the 
filth left, but he had consumed it all on the tree. When he discovered this, 
he became scared and ran away. The man pursued him, crying, "Don't 
run away, pile up wood for me." Sitco'^'ski stood still, and helped him 
piling up wood. The man built a fire. Sitco'i'ski was kneeling down by 
the fire, and the man was behind him. Sitco"'ski caught sight of a weasel. 
"Come here," he called out to him, "and I'll make you look handsome." 
When the Weasel was near him, he said, "Crawl into this man's rectum 
and eat up his heart." The Weasel entered the man's body and began to 
eat his heart. The man said, "Something is wrong with my heart. Hurry 
up, build the fire." Sitco^'ski was very slow about it. The man walked 
towards him, and Sitco^'ski ran away as fast as he could, yelling. The 
man pursued him, and nearly caught hold of his clothes. Suddenly he 
fell dead. Sitco"'ski was glad. He went back to the corpse. The Weasel 



1909.] Lowie, The Assinihoine. |29 

came out. Sitco"'ski washed him with snow, that is why weasels are white.' 
Sitco^'ski burnt up the corpse; it took him four days. He put into the 
fire what was left of the man's heart, but it did not burn up, it was like ice. 

44.2 

l^^kto^'m' was living with the Indians. He went to a hilltop, and cried 
out, "Let everyone get ready for the buffalo hunt!" All got their horses 
ready. Some buffalo were coming across the hills. The Indians made a 
rush and killed them. I"kto"'mi went about, teaching the people how to 
skin buffalo. They had no knives, so he picked up a bone and made a 
knife. Then he showed them how to cut off the legs and ribs, how to clean 
the entrails, and told them what parts should be eaten uncooked. He 
broke a leg bone, and showed them the marrow. After the entrails had 
been removed, I"kto"'m' told a man to take the paunch with the liver and 
kidneys, wash them in the river and eat them raw. Then he asked him 
whether he liked the food. "From now on your people will subsist on such 
food. The buffalo will live as long as your people. There will be no end 
of them until the end of time. You will have a son who will chase buffalo 
and provide meat for you until you are gray-headed and ready to die." 

45.3 

Ten women were living together in a lodge. One day I^kto'^'m^ got 
there and went in. "Sisters, I have come to save you. If you don't obey 
me, you will all get sick and die." They begged him to save them. "To- 
morrow you will see something over the hill. As it approaches, slit oj)en 
the lodge-cover wherever you may be sitting. Cunnos monstrate, (juiljus 
adspectis, iNIorbus abibit. That is the only way you can be saved. I am 
traveling myself to escape the Disease." I"kto'^'m' ran in the direction 
he had indicated, cut branches, and dried the leaves on them during the 
night. The next morning he rubbed himself all over with white clav and 
disguised himself by putting the leaves on his head. Using the limb of 
a tree for a cane, he approached the lodge. The women said, "The Disease 
is coming." Then they did as I"kto"'m^ had bidden them. I"kto"'m' laid 
down his cane. Cum eis invicem coiit. The youngest was the last one he 
got to. He picked up his stick and departed. The women said, "The 
Disease is going; awav." The voungest woman said, " I like the Disease, 

1 Cf. Russell, p. 212 (Cree). 

2 Ft. Belknap. 

3 Ft. Belknap. 



130 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

I'll call him back." And she called after him, "Disease, I wish you would 
come back again." But I^^kto^'m' had had enough of them and would not 
come back. 

46.1 

I^^kto^'mi ^vas living in the forest. He made a lot of songs, packed 
them on his back, and set out traveling. After a few days, the load got 
so heavy, that he could only walk very slowly. He S(>t the songs down, 
and considered what to do next. At last he decided to call the birds and 
beasts. He called the buffalo, the peha'ri" (crane?), ixa'tata'n (a dark 
bird), the crow, the cock, the fox, the wolf, the horse, the owl, and the 
coyote. He told them he was going to divide his songs among them. The 
buffalo received the first song and the powers that went with it; he was 
told that people would dream of him, and get the api)r()priatc song, dance, 
and costume from him. The peha'ri", ixa'tatahi, crow and cock received 
corresponding instructions. The cock was given the grass-dance, the i)or- 
cupine headdress re])resenting his crest. The other animals each received 
his own ceremonv. Then l"kto"'m' bade them se])arate. "Wherever 
people live, appear to them in their dreams and give them your dances." 
They separated, each Ijearing his song; they spread over the whole world. 
The songs kept by I"kto"'m' himself were those relating to the women's 
dance and the medicine men's practices. 

I"kto"'m' went to the sky, and told its inhabitants to keep it open, so 
that people could get there without difficulty. "Xo one shall come down 
again," said I"kton/m'. 

47. 

I"kto"'m' was going along a buffalo trail. He followed a creek, and 
found a young calf that had been trampled in the mire by the other buffaloes. 
It could not get out of the wallow. I"kto"'m^ stripped, washed off the mud, 
and extricated the calf. Then said he, "Younger brother, let us travel. 
You are able to walk now." '^iliey traveled for two or three days. One 
day I"kto"'m* asked, "Do you think you can locate people in the direction 
we are now traveling?" "Yes, we'll soon meet people by a big lake. 
Before we get there, I '11 make myself grow. I did not think I would get 
out, but now I am glad. I have strayed from my mother, and she must be 
seeking me now." I^kto^'m^ took the lead, and the calf followed. The 
calf rolled over several times, and stood up a little larger than before. They 
continued on their way, the calf leading. After a while, it again asked 
I"kto"'m' to go ahead, and repeated the same proceedings. When it rose 

1 Ft. Belknap. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 13| 

again, it was as big as a two-year-old. "You look like a buflfalo now," 
said Inkto"'ni'. "Yes, by the time we arrive, I'll be one of the biggest 
buffaloes." They went on. After a while, the ealf again asked Inkto"'m' 
to Avalk ahead. It rolled over, and again stood up bigger than before. 
"How do I look now? "You look like a big buffalo now." The ealf 
told him that they would soon reach a big camp, and the painted lodge 
would be the buffalo-chief's residence. "Brother," it said, "you had better 
roll over in the same way as myself." I"kto"'m' obeyed, rose, and was 
transformed into a two-year-old buft'alo. He was surprised. "We must 
roll over once more," said the calf, "then we '11 go to the camp." So they 
rolled again, and the calf stood up a very large buffalo, while I"kto"'m' 
also got to be of a good size. They went closer and hid in a coulee until 
dark. When it was dark, the calf said, " I '11 steal a woman from the camp; 
wait for me here." The calf went, and soon returned with a white cow. 
"Now brother, do you go, but don't go near the painted lodge. Its owner 
is powerful, he will know if you get close." I"kto"'m' went, thinking, "I 
wonder what would happen if I went there." So he went to the painted 
lodge and near it found a spotted cow, the chief's wife. She asked him 
when he had arrived at the camp. "I have just come a little while ago 
with a band of people. Do you want to see them?" Her husband was 
away, so she agreed to go with him. They got to where the calf was stand- 
ing with his mate. They all decided to run oft". The calf led, and they 
fled for four nights, when they arrived at a wood. There I"kto"'m> said, 
"Let us rest here, they can't catch up." The calf said, "They may be 
near us. Look towards the sunset, if you see dust ascending, it will be 
from the buffalo." He looked and saw the dust approaching like a prairie 
fire. The buffalo chief's horns were of iron. He ran up over the hills, 
followed by his herd. He despatched a messenger to the fugitives. "To- 
morrow at noon you will have to fight those two buffaloes, whose wives you 
have stolen." At noon the calf got ready to fight. The two enemies ap- 
proached each other slowly, and began to butt. I"kto"'m' thought, "I have 
raised this calf, and I '11 help him." The calf said, "Step back, don't help 
me." But I"kto"'m^ hooked the bull and threw him up into the air again 
and again, until all his bones were broken. Then it was I"kto"'m''s turn 
to fight the chief. The calf now helped him, and they continued throwing 
the bull into the air until all his bones were broken. The other buffalo 
turned around and went home. I"kto"'m' and the calf kept their wives. 
The calf said, " I"kto"'m\ stay here, I '11 go west to find my parents. P>very 
fall I am going to visit you with the buffalo, and if any people live here, 
they will have plenty of buffalo." 



132 Anthropological Papers America}} Muse}i}}i of Natural History. [\o\. \\, 

48.^ 

I"kto"'m' was walking along. B_v a coulee he saw a lodge. He went 
there softly and looked in. A man was sitting in the rear of the lodge. A 
large knife was lying beside him. To one of the lodge poles was tied a 
rattle. The man was sitting with bowed head. I"kto"'m' entered, "^ly 
younger brother," said he, "it is said that you are watching this rattle, so I 
have come to watch in your place. You can go to sleep." '^Phe man was 
willing. Then he took twisted tobacco, mixed it with kinikkinik, stuffed a 
pipe, and, handing it to I"kto"'m\ bade him continue smoking it. When 
he had fallen asleep, I"kto"'m\ picked up his (piiver, took the rattle, and 
went out. He ran east. At daybreak he lay down in the brush to rest. 
Suddenly the man he had tried to cheat touched his hij). Shaking him, he 
bade I"kto"'m' get up. "You were truly watching the rattle!" "No, my 
younger brother," said I"kto"'m\, " it was thus. I was going outside to 
knock the ashes out of the pipe. I was afraid that if I left the rattle indoors 
some winged being might enter through the smoke-hole and snatch it away, 
that is whv I took it with me." 



49.- 

Sitco"'ski was staying with his wife and three children, one of whom was 
a girl. His wife had many berries in the camp. "^J'he man scared away his 
wife ut cum filia coiret. He was hungry. Having nothing to eat, he asked 
one of the boys to bring him a sj)it, which he sharpened at Ijoth ends. The 
boy was watching his father. "Stand near me," said Sitco"'ski. When 
the boy was close to him, he pushed the spit up his rectum, held the boy 
over the fire and roasted him. He ate his son's flesh. The older boy was 
frightened. He always watched his father. When Sitco"'ski was hungry 
again, he asked the second boy to get him a large spit. Instead of obeying, 
the boy ran away. His father called him. When the boy did not return, 
Sitco^i'ski went to look for him and saw him running away. He pursued 
him and was gaining on him. The boy ran to a wood, where he turned 
himself into a tree-trunk. Sitco'^'ski passed him without taking any note of 
it. He could not see any track, and returned. The boy's buttocks had re- 
mained human. Going back, Sitco'^'ski noticed them and thought they 
looked like moose-flesh. While he was looking for the track, the boy re- 
sumed his former shape and made his escape. 



1 Ft. Belknap. Translated from a text. 

2 The identification of the cannibal with Sitco"'ski seems to be an afterthought. 



1909.] Lou-ie, The Assiniboine. 133 

Sitco"',ski wanted to marry the daughter of a chief, but she refused to 
have him. He planned a scheme to get her. The people had broken 
camp. He went to the old camp-site and found a piece of a white robe. 
Shaking it, he said, "I wish I had the whole robe." He thus secured a 
whole robe. He picked up some red cloth, and similarly transformed it 
into a large piece. In the same way he got a weasel skin and an otter skin 
headdress. He then tracked the people. He met one of the chief's sons, 
w^ho conducted him to his father's lodge. The girl liked Sitco'^'ski in his 
disguise. "I am going home soon," said Sitco'^'ski, "my people live far 
away." The girl said she would get some wood. Sitco^'ski waited for her. 
She called out to him, "I'll go with you." He stood still and said, "Get 
your things and we'll go together." The girl got her dress and ran back to 
Sitco^'ski, but he was gone. She only found a weasel-skin legging on the 
road, which turned into excrements. The girl returned to camp and told 
her father how Sitco'^'ski had fooled her. The chief said to the people, 
"We had better move camp, my daughter is ashamed." 

51. 

A man said to his wife, "I am going to sleep away from home, but shall 
be back to-morrow." The woman was glad for she was expecting a lover. 
Her husband, however, only pretended to go away; in reality, he was watch- 
ing the lodge from near-by in disguise. He saAv a man approaching the 
lodge. It was I"ktu'mni, who was crawling along the ground. He got 
stuck in a pit in the ground and could not get out. The people did not give 
him any help, so he failed to steal the woman. 

52. 

Sitco^'ski was traveling all day. At night he erected his shelter. The 
next day he traveled again. He got to a muskeg and could not get across. 
He took a long stick and tried to use it as a bridge. AVhen he had got half- 
way across, he tried to jump to the bank, but fell backwards to the side he 
had come from. He was furious, and began to abuse the muskeg. Then 
he tried the stick again, first begging it to hold until he got across. The 
stick agreed to do so, and Sitco^'ski reached the other side. He traveled on. 
(There follows the story of the two-named roots. Sitco«'ski scratches his 
itching buttocks, and is doctored by a bear). 

1 Cf. p. 162. 



134 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Nistory. [Vol. IV, 

Sitco^'ski met the bear again. The bear said, "I cured you when you 
were suffering, help me now." Sitco"'ski offered to make a sweat-lodge 
for him, but the bear was afraid of being cheated, and refused to have one. 
Instead he asked Sitco^'ski to go berrying and fill four large pails for him. 
Shco^'ski started out, but did not feel like getting all the pails filled, so he 
put moss at the bottom and only a layer of berries on top. 

Sitcoi^'ski walked on. He was looking for Stoneys. He got to a big 
river. There he found a big beaver lying by the water-edge. It pretended 
to be dead. He passed on and got to a river again, where another beaver 
was feigning death. Sitco"'ski then knew it was merely pretending, so he 
turned it over and over, and packed it. He struck a lake. There he un- 
packed the beaver and tied it up with his tobacco-pouch, while going for 
some spits. He found some sticks and said, " This is for roasting the legs, 
and this one for the head, and this for the tail." He heard a noise. 
Looking around he saw the beaver swininiing in the middle of the lake with 
his tobacco-pouch. Sitco'^'ski was angry. "(Jive me back that sack!" 
"No, I won't, because you were cutting spits to roast me on." "No, the 
sticks were for another animal." "I heard what you said to the sticks." 
The beaver paid no attention to him, and swam away. Sitco^'ski pretended 
to be crying. The beaver pitied him, caiue Ijack, and returned the tobacco- 
pouch, saying, "Hereafter don't try to dieat beavers." Sitco"'ski was glad 
to get his pouch back.^ 



Miscellaneous Tales. 



1. Teze'xxin." 

(a) 

An old woman had a married daughter. Both the husband and wife 
died, and then their only son lived with his grandmother. The other 
people in the camp said, "You two, go away, we don't want you here." 
They moved away. Whenever they were hungry, the boy went out to hunt. 
The other people were starving. One man said, "The poor boy has lots of 
food." Then they went and stole his meat. The old woman cried. Her 
grandson said, "Don't cry, we'll get some more food." He went out again, 
and killed plenty of game. Seeing what a good hunter he was, the chief 

1 Cf. Russell, p. 213. (Cree). 

2 Literally, Sore-Belly. Elements of this mvth occur in Petitot's collection, pp. 447- 
449 (Cree). 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 135 

gave him his daughter in marriage. Once the boy killed a big moose. The 
people went for the meat. The boy put the blood in a bag, and his wife put 
it on her back. The boy walked behind, and pierced the bag with a 
pointed stick. "You are losing all the blood," he said to his wife. She 
said she would wash as soon as they got home. 

The orphan grew taller and taller all the time. The people did not know 
how to kill game. The orphan was the first to make a buffalo-pound. By 
sweating, he made himself handsome. All the women liked him.^ 

(b) 

There was once an orphan boy, whom no one cared for. He stayed with 
his grandmother at some distance from the camp. One man asked him, 
"How do you get so fat? Where do you get food from ?" "^i.y grand- 
mother has plenty of food." The man went to the boy's lodge, and, finding 
plenty of food, stole it. The old woman cried. The boy said, "Don't cry, 
we'll get more food. In the morning we shall find moose and buffalo 
meat." They went to sleep. The next morning, there was moose and 
buffalo meat in their lodge. The orphan said, "Don't go near their camp, 
those people don't like us." The j^eople said, "Sore-Belly is fat again, 
they must have some food." Sore-Belly knew they were going to steal the 
meat. He went home. When the men tried to steal his meat, he seized 
them by the wrist and broke their arms.- The chief saw that he was strong 
and gave him his daughter for a wife. The boy was very ugly. The chief 
ordered the couple to make a sweat-lodge. "What kind of a young man 
would you like for a husband?" the boy asked his wife. "A handsome 
young man." Then Teze'xnin went inside and sweated, while his wife 
waited outside. At last he told her to open the door, and came out as a 
handsome vouth.^ 



1 A Teton folk-tale recorded by Curtis, III, pp. 111-118, is largelj' based on the Poor Boy 
motive. An old woman, whose people are expropriated by Waziya, clandestinely obtains a 
clot of blood, which develops into a mysterious boy. Bloodclot sets out to win the chief's 
daughter by shooting a red eagle and red fox, but is met by Iktomi, who makes him stick to a 
tree, returns clad in his garments, and in the guise of the hero marries the older daughter. Blood- 
clot is freed from his position on the tree by an old woman who brings him up with her grandson. 
He destroys Waziya, and as a reward receives the chief's younger daughter for his wife, but is 
despised by his sister-in-law on account of his assumed ugliness. He shoots the fox and the red 
eagle. The latter flies home and is to be doctored, but Bloodclot intercepts the physician, 
learns his secrets, lays him low, plays his part, and kills the bird. He bathes, becomes trans- 
formed into a handsome boy, and is recognized as the wonder-worker he is, wliile Iktomi is 
obliged to seek safety in flight. The liaughty sister-in-law now makes advances, which, how- 
ever, are spurned by the hero. 

2 This incident is told of Crow-Head, a mythic hero of the Chipewyan of Lake Athabaska. 

3 For the deformed transformed motive, cf. Kroeber, (e), p. 81 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey 
and Kroeber, p. 348 (Arapaho); Kroeber (d), p. 171 ; Curtis, III, p. 117 (Dakota); J. O. Dorsey, 
(d), p. 606 (Omaha); Schoolcraft, p. 72 (Ojibwa). 



136 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

{cY 

No one liked Teze'xnin, because he was ugly. The chief had a pretty 
daughter as yet unknown to any man. The boy was watching her. Uno 
die puellam mingentem conspexit. Quod cum vidisset, puer eodem loco 
minxit. Quo facto puella gravida facta est. Pater earn interrogavit, "Quis 
te gravidam fecit?" "Xescio" respondit. A child was born. The chief 
summoned all the young men to his lodge. All came readily, except 
Teze'xnin, who was the last to arrive. "I.,et each of you take the child," 
said the chief, "whoever is wetted by it, shall be recognized as its father." 
The child was handed to everyone present, l)ut did not wet any of them. 
At last the chief said, "Give it to Teze'xnin." The child urinated on him, 
and the chief decided that he was the baby's father. The girl did not like 
him. Sore-Belly asked, "What sort of a looking young man would you 
like to have?" "I want a nice young man with a light complexion and 
reddish {sic) hair." The boy asked his grandmother to erect a sweat-lodge. 
He went in four times, then he re-appeared as just the kind of man his wife 
desired. 

{d) 

An old woman was scraping a moose-skin. She piled up the scrapings 
in a heap and put them in a pail, which she hung up. She went out to 
fetch wood. ^Yhen she returned, she heard a child crying. The scrapings 
had turned into a boy. The woman was very glad, and made a bed of moss 
for him. Having no milk, she brought him up on soup. He grew every 
night. After four days he was as large as a fourteen year old boy. 

The chief had a daughter, who refused to marry. (The boy hero causes 
this girl to conceive in the way described in the preceding version). "When 
she had borne a son, her father summoned all the young men and declared 
that the one wetted by the infant would be recognized as its father. The 
child was handed from one man to another, but did not urinate on anyone. 
One man. Hog, drank some water, spat it out on himself and pretended to 
have been wetted by the child, but the people had noticed what he had done. 
At last the child urinated twice on the old woman's ward, and the poor boy 
was accordingly recognized as its father. 

The chief was displeased with his son-in-law, and disowned both him 
and his daughter. It was in the winter. He ordered that both, as M^ell as the 
boy's foster-grandmother, be tied up, and moved camp. The old woman 
had a little dog. When the people had gone, she asked the dog to untie 
them, and it freed them all. Then the boy asked the two women to pick up 



1 This tale was recorded by Mr. Alanson Skinner among the Cree of James Bay. 



1909.] Loicie, The Assiniboine. 137 

rags of blankets and strips of buckskin. He ordered his wife to erect a sweat- 
lodge, and went in to sing. Out of the rags he made buckskin robes aud 
handed them outside, then he shut the door again. After a while he pro- 
duced a fine white blanket. Then he transformed himself into a handsome 
young man. His wife was now very fond of him. He made many arrow^s 
and went out to hunt. The moose ran away, but he turned into a moose 
and killed many of them. They had plenty of meat now, and were 
very rich. The v lived in the woods for a long time.^ 

(e) 

Two girls were playing together. A poor orphan boy wished to join 
them, but they would not let him. When they walked away, he followed 
them. Then they told him to go away and play by himself. The boy went 
to his grandmother. "Grandmother, make some nice things for me, those 
girls have abused me." She made him a new pair of leggings and moccasins. 
In the night he went to the girl's lodge, but they cried, "Go away, you 
stinking one." 

After a while there was a famine, but the boy continued to kill game. 
Then one of the girls thought she had better marry the boy, seeing that he 
was such a good hunter. She went to his grandmother, and said, "I will 
stay with your grandson." "Well, you will never be hungry if you marry 
that boy." The girl arranged her bed in the boy's tent. When the boy 
came in, he was a little shy at first. "Here is your wife," said his grand- 
mother. The boy said, "You called me 'stinking one,' why do you come 
here?" The girl began to cry. The boy said, "Before taking you to wife, 
I shall go somewhere." He set out, and killed two moose. After traveling 
for two days, he met some people who were nearly starved. They asked 
him where he came from. "A two day's journey from here; you'll starve 
if you don't come along with me." The chief said, "The boy has plenty 
to eat, let us go with him." They went with him. The boy killed plenty 
of moose and elk, and distributed meat among all the people. His name 
was Sore-Belh'. 

Sore-Belly said to the people, "If I kill any game, don't step over the 
meat." Once the people transgressed the taboo, and all the moose ran 
away to the south. The boy went out several times without killing any 
game. One night he did not return. His wife tracked him a whole day 
without finding him. At last, he returned after five days' absence, and 
brought back all the moose. They liked him; he used to dream of them. 



1 This version rather closely resembles a Kootenay tale (Boas, Einige Sagen der Kootmay, 
Verhandlungen der Berliner anthropologischen Gesellschaft, 1891. p. 163-165). 



138 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

x\fter a while some one again stepped over some moose meat. Teze'- 
xnin said, "Someone has stepped over some meat again, the moose are go- 
ing away." His wife asked, "Which way did they go?" "Northward." 
After a while she got hungry and asked her husband to hunt moose. He 
said, " If I go, I'll never come back, you'll never see me again." She replied, 
"If you let me die, I'll never see you either." The boy started out for the 
moose. His wife tracked him, but could not find him and returned home. 
The old grandmother asked, "Where is your husband?" "He is far away, 
I could not find any man's footprints, but only moose tracks." The boy 
never returned, he turned into a moose. Then the people had to li\c on 
rabbits and gophers, until they found buft'alo. 

2. The Poor Boy. 

Two good-looking girls were living together. The older one wished to 
marry a poor boy, but he refused. The younger one also proposed to him. 
Then he married her, and lived together with the two sisters. The boy used 
a large bear for a dog, always tying him up inside the lodge. When he 
lived with his grandmother, he once said to her, "I wish we had a bear for a 
dog." She protested, saying she was afraid, but the next day, they had one. 
The boy was a great hunter. He used to play with other boys, none of 
whom had much to eat. They asked him where he got his meat, but he 
refused to tell. He said to his grandmother, "I wish we had another bear." 
The next day they had a second one. Whatever the boy wished for, he 
obtained. After eating, he always played with other boys. They used to 
remark how fat he was getting. He always kept a small piece of bearskin. 
Once the boy said, "I wish we had the meat of both a male and a female 
moose." The next day his grandmother found the meat in camp. They 
subsisted on the meat for four months. He made a buffalo-pound. Now 
some people came to live near him. The boy made many arrows, and gave 
one to each of the men. He told them he was going to drive the buffalo 
towards them. Soon they heard the trampling of buffalo, whom he drove 
into the pound. They shot all of them. When they were done eating the 
meat, he drove some more in. 

Once the boy stayed away for a long time. At last, just before sunset, 
they heard him coming. He shouted when he got close, and all the Indians 
came running to the pound. He was riding on horseback, and his horse was 
quite exhausted. When all the buffalo were slain, the women went inside 
and skinned them. The last time he got buffalo, he staved out all night. At 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 139 

last he brought them, but there was only half a herd. He said, "I can't 
get any more, they are all gone." They had gone to the mountains.' 

3. The Orphan Brother and Sister.' 

(a) 

A young orphan boy was living with his sister. By his medicine he 
managed to kill beavers. In the winter he was in the hal)it of cutting the ice 
and putting his medicine in the water, then all the- beavers would come out, 
and the boy caught them. Thus he obtained plenty of beaver-skins. He 
would hear people trying to kill beavers, but they could not do it. When 
they gave up the attempt, he would go there and use his medicine, which he 
carried about his neck. Being very strong, he tied all the beavers to a sinew 
string and carried them home. Once the other people tried to rob him, but 
he said, "Let me alone, these are my beavers." If they persisted, he seized 
their arms and broke them.^ He never told his sister where he went to hunt. 
When the people came back to camp with broken arms, the girl said, "\ou 
never told me about breaking their arms, you must set them again." The 
boy was paid well for treating the people. He just touched their arms, saying, 
"There is nothing wrong," and they went home cured. All the people were 
afraid of him now. 

One day, he said to the girl, " Perhaps a lot of people will come and 
carry you off together with our lodge." She asked, "Supposing they take 
me, what will ijou do?" "I will put a shell in the ground, go inside, and 
sing." The people came and carried oft" the girl. They heard something 
within a shell. They tried to break it open by stamping on it, but only tore 
their feet. They tried to push it over, but could not do so. Then they just 
went away with the girl. The boy had two arrows. He shot them at the 
enemy, crying, "Avoid my sister!" The arrows killed everyone except the 
girl, whom her brother then took back again. 

The boy went traveling. He heard a bear singing, "I am walking on the 
earth." The orphan sang, "I have met the stone." The bear heard him, 
and stopped singing. "What are you saying?" he asked. "I was not say- 
ing anything." "I want to know what you were singing. How many 
times have you met the stone ?" The bear was scared and fled, but the boy 
shot an arrow into his anus, splitting his back open and piercing his heart. 



1 This story is obviously a fragmentary version of the story of the Poor Boy hero who 
suppUes his starving people with food. The opening sentences stand absolutely unrelated to 
the rest of the tale. 

2 This myth was found by Mr. Skinner among the James Bay Cree. 

3 Cf. p. 135. 



140 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xuturul History. [Vol. IV, 

(b) 

An orphan boy and his sister were living together. The boy had a 
sinew string. During the daytime he was never home. "^Yhat do you do 
during the day ?" his sister asked. "I am trying to ensnare the sun with my 
sinew." One day he caught him and there was no dayhght. The girl asked, 
"What is the matter? Why is there no light?" "I have caught the sun." 
"You had better release him; if we don't see the daylight, we shall die." 
The boy approached the sun, but it got too hot for him. He returned to his 
sister, and said, "I cannot free him, he is too hot." At last, he sent a small 
mouse to gnaw up the sinew. The mouse went close. All its hair was 
burnt up, nevertheless it gnawed the sinew in two. Then the sun was free, 
and there was daylight once more.^ 

A hostile tribe caught sight of a camj) of about four luuidred Stoney 
lodges. They waited until nightfall when all the Stoneys were aslee}). Then 
they killed all except a young girl and her little brother, who hid in a dog- 
house. After the Blackfoot were gone, the children came out of their hiding 
place, looked about and found that everyone was killed. The girl packed 
her belongings and set out with her ])rother to look for another Stoney band. 
At sunset, the girl struck fire, and they lay down without any supper. The 
next morning the boy asked his sister to make a bow and arrows for him. 
She made two of the arrows with a blunt ( ?) point and strung the bow with 
sinew. Then they traveled all day again and went to bed supperless. The 
boy grew perceptibly every day. He told his sister, "If I kill four rab])its, 
each of us will eat two." The girl agreed. The boy went off a little distance, 
found four rabbits in the brush, killed them, and brought them home. The 
girl asked how he had killed them, and he told her he had used the blunt (?) 
arrows. The girl skinned and roasted the rabbits. Then she said, "Let 
each of us eat one rabbit to-night and another in the morning." "No, each 
must eat two now, as I said." At last, the girl agreed, and they ate uj) the 
rabbits. In the morning the boy had grown again. "Sister," he said, "if I 
kill a moose, we'll have plenty of dry meat." He traveled some distance and 
shot a moose. He came home. "I have killed a big moose, but it is too 
heavy for me to turn over for skinning." The girl took her knife and helped 
him to skin it. Then he seized it by the legs and carried it to the fire. The 

1 So far as I know, the oldest published version of this tale is that of Le Jeune, whose Rela- 
tion of 1637 records it as a Montagnais myth (Jesuit Relations, Vol. 12, p. 35). Cf. also J. O. 
Dorsey, (d), p. 14 (Omaha); Schoolcraft, p. 239 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 181 (Menomini); Jones, 
p. 79 (Fox). 



1909.] Loivie, The Assiniboine. 141 

next morning he had grown cagain. The boy made new arrows ol' larger size 
for himself, while the girl was i)reparing dried meat. Every day the orphan 
killed some game. 

One night the boy began to sing, "Before we get up in the morning, I 
wish we had a new lodge wath new furniture. What do you think?" His 
sister said she also desired a new lodge. In the morning the girl woke up 
first and found herself in a new, well-furnished lodge. She was very glad 
and roused her brother. Then she built a fire. The boy said, "If I o-o 
hunting and some Indians carry you off in the meantime, what do you 
think of that?" She said, "Whatever you say, happens. Why do vou 
speak like this?" The next morning he went to hunt, but did not kill anv 
game. He stood on a hill, looking around until he got drowsy and fell 
asleep. In the meantime, some Indians came to the tent, stole their propertv 
and abckicted the girl on horseback. While the boy was sleeping, something 
spoke to him, saying, "People are stealing your sister and your lodge." 
He woke up and ran home as fast as he could. He was very angry. There 
was nothing left on the site of the lodge. He followed the enemy's tracks 
and from a ridge saw them traveling fast. He pursued them, but could not 
catch up; he only saw them from afar. Being exhausted, he called out, "I 
am w^eary; come, White-Horse-with-the-Black-^Iane." He walked on 
until he heard a voice behind. The white horse came singing. He 
jumped on it. It said, "Don't release my mane." Then it went as fast as a 
bird. When they got close to the enemy, he singled out his sister, took a 
blunt ( ?) arrow, pulled the bow-string three times, and the fourth time shot 
off the arrow, saying, "Pass around my sister." With two shots he killed all 
the people. He took his sister back. She was crying, because the enemy 
had consumed all their provisions. "Don't cry, we'll get some more." He 
dismissed his horse and walked home with the girl. In the evening he said, 
"I wish to have a nice lodge at sunrise." The next morning they woke up 
in a fine lodge. He went hunting and killed some game. "Go, get that 
meat," he said to his sister. "How far is it? If it is very far, I won't be 
able to pack it." "Don't go to-day; wait until to-morrow, then I'll get you 
a horse to pack it on." In the morning the girl woke up and said, "Hurry 
up, get me the horse." The boy set out, found foiu- horses by a spring, and 
brought them home. He gave two to the girl, and said, "When you pack 
this one, just tell him to go straight home." Thus she brought the meat back. 

The boy was ashamed to be living alone with his sister. He said, "If 
any young man comes near when I am out to-morrow, bid him enter." He 
went away. The girl saw a young man ]>y a nearby hillock and called him 
to her. They married. Wheia the boy returned, he was glad to meet his 
brother-in-law, and presented him with all his property and his lodge. The 



142 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

woman told her husband about her brother's doings. The young man had 
many friends whom he wished to see. "You had better come to my camp," 
he said to his wife and the orphan boy. "I'll get some more horses," 
replied the boy, and brought four pack-horses and three to ride on. His 
brother-in-law rode on ahead and told his father that he had found the 
orphans and had married the girl. He also told him about the boy's ex- 
ploits. His father said, "Bring them here, I will give him my prettiest 
dauo-hter." Then the husband again invited his wife and his brother-in-law 
home. The woman asked her brother to marry her sister-in-law, and he 
was willing to do so. They arrived at the camp-circle, the old man as chief 
lodo-ing in the center. The boy's brother-in-law gave him many fine ])res- 
ents. He gave him half of his horses. The orphan boy said, "I wish I had 
a new house in the morning," and the next day he had a fine lodge close to 
that of the chief. 

4. The Deserted Children.^ 

Whenever a certain young man defecated, he discharged beads. Some 
little girls were playing at erecting a model tipi. The youth purposely 
defecated near them, and went home. A younger l)rother of his, who was 
playing with the children, bade the girls fetch some water and meat. The 
girls looked at the excrements and picked up the beads. The young num 
who had been watching them from afar, went home. For a while he re- 
fused to speak. His father asked him why he was silent. At last, he said, 
"Some bad girls have played with my excrements after 1 had defecated, and 
by their magic they are plotting to destroy us all. We must flee and abandon 
them here." 

Accordingly, all the people packed their travois, muzzled their dogs, 
and ran away. The girls, who were playing with other children, did not 
know what had occurred. About the time of sunset one boy asked the girls 
to fetch some meat. Two boys who had gone to the camp returned, saying, 
"All the people have gone away." The girls did not believe it, and the 
oldest asked her sister to go with the boys. She said, "It is impossible that 
our mothers have abandoned us." The girl returned crying. "All are 
gone." The oldest girl said, "We had better follow them." The people 
had gone to a thick wood. The children could not find the tracks, though 
one old woman who pitied them had hung uj) moss to ])oint the way. 

At last, they came to an old cannibal witch. The bead-maker had 

1 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 138 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 102 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey 
and Kroeber, p. 286 (Arapaho); Kroeber, (d), p. 185 (Cheyenne); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 92 
(Omaha); G. A. Dorsey, (c), p. 36 (Osage); Id., (a), p. 97 (Pawnee). 



1909.] Louie, The Assiniboine. ]43 

dreamt of her and promised her the children for food. The girl.s asked her, 
"Where have onr parents gone?" She answered, "You had better camp 
with me to-night." Being tired, the children were satisfied, and were going 
to stretch out near the lodge-poles, but the witch said, "There are lots of 
mice there, you had better sleep near the fire." She began boilino- water 
in a kettle, then she cut off the oldest girl's head and cooked it. She cut 
off the heads of nearly all the children, and ate them. There was one girl 
who had been carrying her little brother. She knew the woman was a witch, 
so she had told her brother, "Watch while 1 sleep, the old woman may be 
bad." When the boy saw the witch severing the children's heads, he pinched 
his sister, but she continued sleeping. At last he bit her ear, and she woke 
up. When she saw what had happened, she implored the witch to spare her. 
" Don't kill me, I'll work for you and fetch your water and wood." The old 
woman consented to let her live. The first day the girl fetched firewood, 
but it was wet, and did not burn well. "Look for dry wood; if you bring 
bad wood, I will kill you. Leave your brother here." The girl said, 
"He is not cleanly, he may dirty you." "Well, take him with you, but 
come back soon." The girl went out with the little boy and found a buffalo 
skull. The skull said, "Come here, I am going to tell you something. You 
had better run after your jnirents. When you strike a big river, you will see 
two white swans there. Pick the lice from the swan's head and chew them. 
Then just say, 'They are sweet.'" 

The children ran to the river, and followed directions. The swans then 
put their necks together, forming a Ijridge, on which they crossed. The 
witch called out, " Granddaughter, luring in the wood." The skull answered, 
"W'^ait, my brother has dirtied me." She called again, and again the skull 
answered for the fugitive. At last she got angry, took her axe, and went out. 
She could not see anyone and cried out, "Where are you, my grandchild?" 
Again the skull gave answer. She finallv discovered that the skull was 
speaking, and said, "Lll break you in two." She tried to split it, but could 
not. Then she cried out to the girl, "Wherever you may go, I shall catch 
you." She tracked her until she got to the bank. She asked the swans to 
let her cross. One swan said, "Pick and chew my lice, or I won't let you 
cross." The witch obeyed, but when she chewed them, she cried. "They 
stink, I don't like them." "You are abusing me, you don't like me," said 
the swan. Nevertheless, the birds made a bridge, but instead of joining 
necks, they joined backs. The witch started to cross, but when she was in 
the middle of the stream, the swans raised their heads, and she f(-ll into the 
river and was drowned. 

The girl caught up to the people. She was perspiring from numing so 
fast. Her mother said, "You bad girl, go back." The girl l)egged her 



144 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

father to let her stay with them, but he refused. At last, the good old woman 
who had hung up the moss said, "Bring your brother to my lodge." She 
allowed them to sleep there. The bead-maker said to the people, "Because 
that girl is with us, a cannibal is going to come here. You had better tie 
the boy and girl to two trees, urinate on them, and abandon them once 
more." The old woman remonstrated, but was told she might be aban- 
doned too. She had a dog called Muskrat. She spoke to him as follows: 
"After I have fastened the tipi to your back, go into the brush. After the 
people are gone, return, untie the children, and let them have the tipi. Also 
lick the people's urine from their bodies." Then she went with the people. 
The dog stayed behind. His mistress pretended to call him, but he did not 
come. At last, he appeared without the lodge. The people searched for 
it. When they could not find it, the old woman said, "It is lost," and pre- 
tended to whip her dog. 

The deserted girl put up the lodge, 'i'he boy asked her, "My sister, 
what ought we to eat ?" "Buffalo meat, — the meat of the animal of which 
we saw the skull." "In the morning a nice fat buffalo will be at our door," 
said he. "That is impossible." But the next morning, when she got up, 
she found a buffalo at the door. She was glad, skinned it, and dried the 
meat. Her brother said, "Make me a sweat-lodge." "No, you are too 
young." At last, however, she made one. He went in, and prayed. After 
a while, she noticed a change in his voice, as though it were that of a 
larger boy. He opened the door, and was a little taller than before. Every 
time he opened the door, he had grown somewhat. The fourth time he was 
a well-sized youth. He said, "To-morrow morning a big bear will lie at 
our door." "Bears are wild, how can we get his meat?" The next morn- 
ing, nevertheless, she found a big bear at the door. She roused her brother, 
and told him about it. They had plenty of meat now. He said, "To-mor- 
row we shall have a handsome lodge." When she woke up the next 
morning she found herself in a beautiful lodge. 

The boy said, "! am going to travel a little now." "Don't go far, 
or you will get lost." He made some arrows of willow-sticks, and feathered 
them. His sister gave him sinew. He made one arrow with a round head. 
Then he declared he was going to cross the mountains. "A big bear dwells 
there. He always kills people, he will kill you." He said, "I will go in 
another direction," but went straight towards the bear, singing, "I should 
like to meet something half-stone, half-bear." When he reached the cave, 
the bear came out. "What are you saying al)out me ?" The boy repeated 
his song. "You are a wretched boy, I'll swallow you." "I'll kill you 
with my round-headed arrow." The bear said, "Yonder are four big trees. 
Stand over here and try to split them with one shot." "I can do that. 



1909.] Loivie, The Assiniboine. 145 

the wood is not hard." He shot his arrow, and broke them easily. The 
bear became frightened. There was a big rock near his cave. "Shoot 
at this stone and break it," he said. "That is not hard," said the boy. 
He shot off an arrow, and the splinters flew like snow-flakes. The bear 
was afraid now, and ran awav. The boy said to his arrow, "Enter his 
anus, go up to his neck, and break him in two." Thus the arrow killed 
the bear. The boy cut off his claws, and brought them to his sister. "Are 
these the claws of the bear you spoke of?" "How did you kill him?" 
"With this bow and arrows." "You always go to evil beings. Don't go 
to the giant. He kills moose and just puts them in his belt. He also carries 
a large staff." 

The boy set out to meet the giant. He found his tracks. At last he 
saw him coming with moose in his belt. The giant said, "Who is this little 
man ? I '11 put him into my glove." He put him inside, and tried to crush 
him with his clenched fist, but the boy tore his glove. Then he said, "I '11 
kill you with my staff." "You can't kill me that way." The giant held 
him in one hand, and tried to strike him with the other, l:)ut the boy held 
his other hand, so that the giant could not hurt him. The giant was per- 
spiring. The boy said, "I thought you were strong." Taking his staff, 
he truck the giant's back, breaking it in two. He took one of his gloves, 
and went home. ''Is this the one you called a strong man?" "How did 
you get this glove?" "I played with the giant, and split him in two with 
his own staff." "That giant has killed my people." 

The boy said, "Some people are going to come to our camp." A short 
time after, a brother of theirs came there. He looked thin and starved. 
The girl fed him with pemmican and gave him food to take to his people. 
He did not recognize them, but told his people he had met a handsome 
man and his sister, who had given him all kinds of food. The people, 
who were famishing, came to the boy's lodge, but the girl would not give 
them any food. At last, the good old woman came with her dog, ^Nluskrat. 
The girl called her. The dog knew her, and wagged his tail for joy. The 
girl fed both hospitably. Then her father came and begged for some food. 
She said, "Chew this up." He tried to eat some, but it was as hard as 
bones. Then the girl hit her father in the neck with the dry meat. After 
this, she and her brother lived together with the old woman and her dog. 



5. The Two Brothers.^ 
Two orphan brothers were traveling together along the shore of a l)ig 



1 Cf. Russell, p. 203 (Cree); Grinnell, (c), p. 150 (Blackfoot); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 238 
(Omaha); Schoolcraft, p. 202 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 87 (Menomini). 



146 Anthropoloyical Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

lake. They saw an old man paddling a canoe. The younger boy was 
playing widi a white-tailed deer's hoofs, which he threw into the air and 
caught in his hands. The old paddler approached the shore. When the 
boy threw one of his hoofs into the air, it fell into the canoe, but the old 
man refused to give it up. The boy began to cry. The older brother 
demanded the toy, but still the old man refused. At last, he stretched 
out his paddle, bridging the distance between the shore and his canoe, and 
said, "Stand there, and I '11 hand it to you." 'I'he youth obeyed, but the 
old man pulled in the paddle, so that he fell into the canoe. He cried, 
"Wait for my younger brother." But the old man would not listen to him, 
and paddled away. The younger boy cried, running along the shore. 
Then he called out to his brother, "I am going to turn my feet into a wolf's." 

The old man took his captive home. When they had landed, he turned 
his boat upside down, covering the young man with it. He then told the 
older of his two daughters to bring in her husband. She ran to the canoe, 
turned it over, and looked at him; but, as she did not like him, she turned 
the boat upside down again. When she returned to the lodge, her father 
asked, "Where is the young man?" She said he was too ugly for her. 
Her father said, "No, he is good-looking." He looked ugly because his 
eyes were swollen with crying. The father now asked tiie younger girl to 
bring him in. She took him home, washed his face, and combed his hair. 
He lived with her as her husband. Every day he went out hunting. His 
father-in-law had many manitou helpers. The youth killed one of them 
every day. In consequence, the old man grew tired and sickly. One day, 
the youth killed the last of the helpers, and the next day the old man did 
not wake up from his sleep. 

The young man then set out to find his lost brother. He went to the 
spot where he had last seen him, and found the track to be that of a boy 
on one side and of a wolf on the other. Whomever he met, he asked con- 
cerning his brother's whereabouts. At last, he was told, "He is living far 
away among the wolves." "Can't any of you bring him to me?" "Xo 
one can get him, he is too fast a runner to be caught." Then the youth 
said, "I '11 turn myself into a dead moose. Tell the animals and the wolves, 
too."^ They obeyed, and all the animals came. The wolves were there, 
and the wolf-boy among them. The wolf-boy recognized his older brother 
and refused to go to the carcass. The other wolves told him to eat without 
fear. Then, although he was afraid, he began to eat the buttocks. After 
a while, his brother jumped up in human shape, and seized him by the 
legs. The wolf struggled, but was overcome. 



' For a similar episode, vid. p. 107. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assinihoine. 147 

The two brothers then lived together, but were not on good terms with 
each other. The older boy sent his brother out to drive moose, himself 
following with his bow and arrows. One day they went out for moose. 
A fat moose ran into a lake, and the wolf followed. When the hunter 
saw this, he ran along the shore to where he expected both to land. WTien 
he got there, he only found moose tracks leading from the lake. He began 
to cry. At last he saw a bald-headed eagle on a tree inclined toward the 
lake. "What are you looking at?" he asked him. "I am watching the 
dogfish playing with a wolf-skin," replied the eagle. "How do these dog- 
fish live?" "About the time of dawn they come up to sleep on a sand- 
bank." The youth went to the sandbank where he found many dogfish 
rolling about. When they had fallen asleep, he approached and began 
shooting those nearest the water. He killed many of them, but others he 
merely wounded, and they fell back into the water with the arrows sticking 
in their bodies. 

As he was standing bv the shore, waiting for more fish to kill, he heard 
someone singing. He listened to the w^ords, and walked towards the singer. 
He beheld a large toad with a reddened rattle slung across his breast and 
singing, "I am going on the warpath to cure." When the youth was close 
to the toad, he asked, "Where are you going?" The toad answered, "I 
am going to doctor the dogfish in the lake. Some one has killed many of 
them, and wounded others, whom I am going to treat." The youth asked 
w^hen and where the toad was expected. When the toad had told him, he 
asked, "What are you going to do to cure the dogfish?" "I'll sing, 'I 
am going on the warpath to cure.'" The young man slew the toad, flayed 
him, donned his skin, and walked on, singing his song. He went to the 
dogfish, who were waiting for the toad. He sang the toad's words, but 
instead of pulling out the arrows he killed the dogfish with them.^ 

6. The Underground Journey.- 

(a) 

A man was living with his wife. It was summer. The woman was 
pregnant. One day, while she was picking berries, a big bear saw and 
abducted the woman, whom he kept in his cave. Before spring, the woman 



1 For the "sham doctor" episode, cf. Maclean, p. 73 (Cree); Grinnell, (c), p. 152; Curtis. 
Ill, p. 116 (Dakota); J. O- Dorsey, (d), p. 241 (Omaha); Schoolcraft, p. 37 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, 
p. 133 (Menomini); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 250 (Pawnee); Jones, p. 357 (Fox). 

2 A European tale. Cf. J. G. von Hahn, Griechische und albanesische Marchen (Leipzig, 
1864), Zweiter Theil, p. 49 et seq; Lowie, p. 298 (Shoshone); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 352 (Omaha). 



148 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

gave birth to a child begotten by her first husband, but with plenty of hair 
on his body, wherefore he was called Icma' (Plenty-of-Hair). In the spring 
the bear came out of his cave. The boy looked outside and told his mother, 
"We had Ijetter run away to where you first came from." But the bear 
had stopped up the entrance with a big rock, and the woman said, "We 
can't get out, the rock is too heavy." The boy tried it, and was able to 
lift it. They fled before the bear returned. They were already near the 
Indian camp when they heard the bear coming in pursuit. The woman 
was exhausted, but the l)oy packed her on his back and ran to the camj). 
At first, the woman went to a stranger's lodge, 'ilien someone told her 
husband that his wife was back. The chief then took both her and his 
son home. 

The boy used to play with other boys. Once he (juarreled with one of 
them and killed him with a single blow. This happened again on another " 
occasion. Then Icma' said to his father, "I don't like to kill any more 
boys, I '11 go traveling." He started out and met two men, who became 
his comrades. One of them was called Wood-Twister (Ca"yube'ha), the 
other Timber-Hauler (HeMsno'ha"). They got to a good lodge, and decided 
to stay there together. On the first day, Icma' and Wood-l'wister went 
hunting. They bade Timber-Hauler stay home and cook. While they 
were away, an ogre that lived in the lodge came out, threw Timber-Hauler 
on his back, and killed him. The two other men found him dead, but 
Icma' restored him to life. The next day Icma' said, "Wood-Twister, 
you stay home, I '11 go hunting with Timber-Hauler." At sunset Wood- 
Twister began cutting firewood. He saw something coming out of the 
lodge that looked like a man, but wearing a beard down to its waist and 
with nails as long as bear-claws. It assaulted Wood-Twister, who was 
found dying by his friends, but was restored by Icma'. The next day Icma' 
said, "You two go hunting, I will stay home." As he was beginning to 
chop wood, the monster appeared and challenged him to fight. Icma' 
seized its head, cvit it off, and left the body in the lodge. When his com- 
rades returned, Icma' asked them, "Why did not you kill him like this?" 
Then he said, "I don't like this house, let us go travehng." 

They started out and got to a large camp. The chief said, "My three 
daughters have been stolen by a subterranean being. Whoever brings 
them back, may marry them all." Icma' told Timber-Hauler to get wood 
and ordered Wood-Twister to twist a rope of it. Then he made a hole 
in the ground and })ut in a box to lower himself in. He descended to the 
underground country and pulletl the rope to inform his friends of his ar- 
rival. He found the three girls. The first one was guarded hy a moun- 
tain-lion, the second by a big eagle, the third by giant cannibals. Icma' 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. ]49 

killed the lion. The girl saitl. "You had better turn back, the eagle will 
kill you." But he slew the eagle. Then the girl said, "The cannibals 
are bad men, you had better go home." "I'll wait for them." The twelve 
cannibals approached yelling; they were as big as trees. The girl said, 
"Run as fast as you can." But Icma' remained, and made two slings. 
With the first he hvirled a stone that went clean through six of the men and 
killed them; and with the other sling he killed the remaining cannibals 
in the same way. One of the girls gave him a handkerchief, another one 
a tie, and the youngest one a ring. He took them to his box, and pulled 
the rope. His two comrades hoisted up the oldest one. Both wanted to 
marry her, but Icma' pulled the rope again, and they hauled up the second 
girl. Then Icma' sat down in the box with the youngest, and pulled the 
rope. As they were hauling them up, Wood-Twister said, "Let us cut 
the rope." The other man refused, but Wood-Twister cut the rope, and 
Icma' fell down. He stayed there a long time, while his companions took 
the girls to the chief. 

At last Icma' begged a large bird to carry him above ground. The 
bird said he did not have enough to eat for such a trip. Then Icma' killed 
five moose, and having packed the meat on the bird's back, mounted with 
the third girl. Flying up, Icma' fed the bird with moose-meat, and when 
his supply was exhausted, he cut off his own flesh and gave it to the bird 
to eat. Icma' came up on the day when his false friends were going to 
marry the girls. All the people were gathered there. Icma' arrived. "I 
should like to go into the lodge before they get married." When he came 
in, Wood-Twister was frightened. "I should Hke to go out, I '11 be back 
in a short time," he said. But he never returned. Then the chief asked, 
"Which of you three rescued the girls?" Then Icma' showed the hand- 
kerchief, the tie and the ring given him by the girls, and got all the three 
girls for his wives. 

{by 

A big mountain-lion went about killing everything h(^ saw. Three 
men were digging a hole in the ground, and were lowering a pail by a rope 
in order to escape. One of them, Stick-Twister, .said, "I'll go down first. 
If I pull the rope, draw me up cjuick." When he had got far down, he 
saw many lodges. In the first lodge he saw two good-looking girls. He 
said, "I like you girls very much." "Why?" "Because you are so 
pretty." "Oh, our sister in the next tipi is much prettier." There were 
blue, yellow and red tipis. The girls said, "You will see many of us people 
underground here." He went on and reached an old woman's tent. "Oh, 



1 A rather confused version. 



150 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Yo\. IV, 

my grandson," she said, "don't go any further, those people are bad, they 
will kill you." The man said, "Give me some water." She said, "We 
have to buy our water. 1 have only this much left." She gave him a cup 
and a-half. The man, after drinking, said, "Give me a pail, I'll fetch 
water." He got water. The old woman said, "You will make the ])eople 
angry at me. They kill anyone that steals water; they will throw you 
into a hole, where the mountain-lion will devour you." He gave the old 
woman a ring, and returned to the first tipi. He took one of the girls, went 
back to his pail, and got in. They heard the roar of the lion, pulled the 
rope, and were drawn up. The man told his friends, "I found many 
good-looking people there." One of them said, "I'll go down and learn 
how to make guns." "Take a little iron along, put it in the ground when 
you get down there, and invite all the people to come up with you." The 
second man descended. He met tAVO men and asked them, "How do you 
make iron?" "Out of stone juice." "I come from a fine country; come 
up there with me." "What kind of people are you talking about? You 
are no good." "WTiere I come from there used to be lots of people, but 
the mountain-lion has killed most of them." He knew he was in danger, 
so he ran back to the pail, jerked the rope, and was hauled up again. 

7. POTIPHAR.^ 

(a) 

Long ago a man was liA'ing with two wives, one of whom had a son. 
Once the other woman asked her stepson to fetch some fire-wood. While 
out in the woods, he shot a partridge. The stepmother went for the par- 
tridge before it was dead. She put it between her legs. The partridge 
scratched her thighs. She came home and told her husband that the other 
woman's son had tried to seduce her; she had repulsed him, but while 
assaulting her he had scratched her legs. 

The man was very angry. He asked his son to look for eggs with him. 
They started out in a canoe on a big lake, where there were four islands. 
On one of these they landed. There were no eggs there. The boy walked 
about on the island. In the meantime, his father returned to the boat and 
paddled away. The boy shouted to his father to stop, but the man only 
answered, "Who is your father?" The boy cried for four days and nights. 
At last a gull flew to him. It advised him to kill a gull, take off its skin 



1 Also found among the Biloxi: J. O. Dorsey, in Riggs, p. XXXI; the Dakota: ibid., p. 139: 
the Omaha: J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 138; the Cree: Petitot, p. 451; the Blackfoot: Wissler and 
Duvall, p. 98. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 151 

and feathers, and put them on himseh'. The boy did as he was told, donned 
the skin, and tried to fly. At first he rose only a short distance and fell 
down again. At last he learnt to fly. Then he flew across the lake. When 
he descended on dry land, the gull told him he would have to pass two 
chasms that were alternately opening and closing, but if he caught two 
small fish and threw them into the cracks he would be able to pass in safety 
while the earth was swallowing them. He did as he was told. When he 
came to the first crack, he threw in one of the fish, and while the earth 
closed over them, he passed across. In the same way he stepped over the 
second chasm. 

He traveled on towards his father's camp. When he got nearby, he 
heard his mother crying. He stood listening. She was chopping wood. 
A little bird flew up to her, and said, "Your son is here." She listened. 
The bird repeated the same words. She answered. "That is not true, 
my son has been dead for a long time." Then the boy approached her. 
She ran up and embraced him. "My boy, are you back?" She showed 
him sore spots all over her body, telling him how her husband was abusing 
her. The boy got angry. He l)ade her go home and bring the other wife's 
baby. "Throw it into the fire, run out of the lodge, and cry, 'O, my son! 
O, my son! ' " She did as he had bidden her. Her husband followed her, 
crying, "No matter where you go, I shall kill you." The boy was waiting 
behind a tree. The woman ran towards him. When the man saw his 
son, he stopped. "O, are you back?" He did not hurt his wife. He 
invited his son to their lodge, and they agreed to have a trial of strength. 
The man failed to overcome his son. At last the boy said, "Which of us 
can bring the sun down here?" He caught the sunbeams, pulled them 
down like ropes, and thus brought the sun down.^ It got very hot, and 
the father was nearly suffocated. Then the boy told his father to hide 
under fat, but the fat soon melted.- The father could not escape from the 
heat and was burnt to death. 

Two brothers were living together; the older one was married.^ One 
day, Avhile the older brother was out hunting, the woman tried to seduce 
her brother-in-law, but he refused to have anything to do with her. Then 
the woman requested him to catch her a chicken and bring it home alive. 
The boy obeyed. The woman put the chicken between her legs, until it 
had scratched them all up, then she released it. The boy asked her. "^Vhy 



I This is a rather popular mode of destroying the enemy in Stoney folklore. 
a This incident occurs in a James Bay Cree version recorded by Mr. Skinner. 
3 The narrator identified the younger brother with Tezgxnin. 



152 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [^'ol. IV, 

did vou do that?" She did not reply. The boy waited for his lirother 
outside. When he had returned, the woman feigned crying. "Your 
brother tried to ravish me, and when I resisted, he scratched up my legs." 
"You lie, you asked me to bring you a chicken, and the chicken scrat(iu>d 
you." The man, however, believed his wife; he ate nothing. He said to 
his brother, "There is a big eagle's nest over there. We'll take a rope 
along and catch the young birds." They started out. The eyrie was near 
a large river. . The man told his brother to climl) up. The boy climbetl 
up, killed the young birds, and threw them down to his companion. The 
older brother then chopjjcd down the tree, so that Tezexnin fell into the 
water. Then he went home. His wife asked, "Where is your brother?" 
He refused to answer, though she repeated the (piestion several times. 
At last he said, "I killed him, because he tried to ravish you." The woman 
said, "I lied to you," and began to cry. But Tezexnin got out of the water, 
and afterwards became very strong. 

(The older brother, Red-Boat, has abandoned his brother on an island.) 
The young man found an enemy on the island. He killed and scalped 
him, making two pieces of the scalp. I'hen he went back to where his 
older brother had left him. Something ro.se from the water. It had a 
long body and two horns, one straight, the other crooked. "Grandchild," 
this being said, "where are you going?" "I am looking for my brother." 
"Your brother has left you, get on my head, we'll go after him." The 
young man tied a piece of .scalp to the crooked horn, and told the animal 
he was giving it to him for a present. Then the Horned-One declared he 
would save the boy. The boy mounted between his horns and they pur- 
sued the older brother. The Horned-One said, "W'hen we are close to 
him, say, 'You have abandoned me, but if you have anything to take pity 
on you, we shall see which of us will live longer.'" When they got close, 
the boy called out to his brother according to these directions. Red-Boat 
cried, "Very well, you will soon be killed by a big mosquito." The younger 
brother cried, "You will be burnt to death by the sun." They parted. 
The Horned-One took the boy to an island and bade him land. "Always 
look at the sun at noon. If you see a little cloud just below the sun, get 
on the largest log you can find, and lie there for some time." He departed. 
The boy walked alxjut with the one piece of scalp. He saw a cloud appear, 
and got on a log. A huge mos({uito made a dash at him. He got under 
the log, and the mosquito's sting went clean through it. The boy had 

1 Ft. Belknap. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. ]53 

received a piece of bone with instructions from the water-animal. lie now 
used it against the moscjuito and killed him. He walked on, crvin"-. 

Suddenly there appeared some animals coming over a hill. 'J'h(> first 
two were tigers/ followed by two bears. They were followed bv a woman. 
She bade the animals stop and spare the boy, because he was so pitiable. 
The boy approached her and sat down. She asked him what he was doino-, 
and he recounted his story. She said, "I am hunting people somewhere." 
1'he water-animal had told him to give the second scalp to an old woman 
he would meet. It turned out that she was the Horned-One's wife. She 
was wearing a scalp-robe, and the scalp he offered her fitted nicely. She 
was grateful. "These animals would have eaten you up, but I stopped 
them. I will tell you where to go. Your brother's brother-in-law is chief 
in his tribe and known as its greatest medicine man. He is alwavs abusing 
yoiu" sister. Though he is waka"', I will tell you how to act. Travel towards 
his camp, and wait until evening. On your way you will meet some of 
my children. They generally come at this time. You may kill and eat 
the last animal you meet, but don't break its bones." A nimiber of ani- 
mals passed; a black one was in the rear. It turned out to be a fat young 
skunk. The young man caught and killed it, skinned it, and roasted its 
flesh, but without breaking any of its bones. He picked up the bones and 
wrapped them up in the animal's skin. He laid it down, and the skunk 
got up alive again. 

He walked on and got to a hill, whence he saw a camj). Going to a 
coulee, he remained there until dark. Then he approached the camp to 
listen to what was going on. In one lodge, in the center of the camp, 
where the medicine-man lived, he heard a woman crying. It was his sister. 
He went first to his parents' lodge. He tied his bone weaj)on to one of the 
tent-poles, and entered. No one inside knew him. His parents had grieved 
about his supposed death, but did not recognize him. They had had 
nothing to eat for three days. He said, "Father and mother, it is I that 
have come back to life." Then he told them his story. They told him 
how unhappy his sister was. The boy said, "We shall soon get rid of 
him." "It is pretty hard to get rid of him; he is very powerful, there is 
no way of killing him." After a while, the medicine-man dispatched his 
wife to invite her l^rother to his tent. He refused at first, saying her hus- 
band was not a good man, but when she came the second time he accejjted 
the invitation. The medicine-man offered him something to eat and smoke, 
but the boy refused the i)ipe. A short time after, his sister was again mal- 
treated by her husband. The boy sent his mother to tell her that when 

1 I use my interpreter's expression. 



154 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

her husband beat her again she should seize him by the hair and try to 
pull him outside of the lodge. The next time, the woman acted according 
to his instructions. Her brother was waiting outside, his bone weapon in 
his hand. When the medicine-man was outside the lodge, the boy broke 
his back clean through. The medicine-man said, "I did not expect a boy 
like you to kill me, but you did, and now you will take charge of the camp." 
The boy bade his sister build a fire. She heated rocks and cast them into 
a pit dug in the ground. Her husband attempted to rise, but he grew 
weaker and could not moye. llnis he was killed, and the boy saycd his 
sister. 

The hero was now going to kill his older brother, Red-Boat. One day 
he summoned all his relatives, and said, "Gather as many baskets of water 
as possible. Set them in your lodge, and remain there." The next day 
it was very hot. It was so hot that the water began to boil. Nearly all 
the people, except the boy's relatives, were getting burnt. Red-Boat tried 
to enter his brother's lodge, but his brother Avould not permit it, so he burnt 
to death outside of the door. Red-Boat's wife was saved. The next day 
it grew cool, and several people who had hidden appeared again. The 
young man told his parents to use Red-Boat's wife as a slave. "First I 
will punish her," he said. He took a badger's claws, and with them 
scratched all her back. Then she became the slave of his parents. 



8. The Sox-ix-T.aw's Tests. 

(a) 

Sitco"'ski had a beautiful daughter, whom everyone sought to marry. 
One day a young man came and married her. She warned him against 
her father. "He kills every young man that comes here. He has already 
killed three." It was in the winter. Sitco"'ski said to his son-in-law, "Let 
us two travel together." They traveled for two days. On the second 
evening, before going to sleep, they built a fire and hung their wet moc- 
casins over it. While the old man slept, the youth, divining his intentions, 
exchanged the two ])airs of moccasins. Sitco"'ski woke vip in the course 
of the night, took what he supposed to be his son-in-law's moccasins, and 
burnt them up. The next day he was going to don his moccasins. "I'hese 
are mine," said the youth. "O, I get crazy sometimes, I have burnt up my 
moccasins," said Sitco"'ski.^ He was very sorry, for it was a cold day. 
He said to the vouth, "Go back, and ask mv wife to make moccasins for 



1 For the preceding incident, see Schoolcraft, p. 209 (Ojibwa). 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 155 

me. Return with them as soon as you can, and, for the i)resent, heap up 
a lot of firewood for me." The young man only piled u]) a few sticks, 
then chose a roundabout way to go home, so that it took him four daA-s 
to get there. He bade the old woman make moccasins and follow his own 
tracks in bringing them to her husband. When she finally arrived, she 
found him frozen stiff, but a big fire restored him. 

The young man's wife said, "He will test you again." In the summer 
Sitco"'ski said, "Let us go to the island to get eggs." They paddled over 
in a canoe. They gathered eggs. Sitco'^'ski said, "I'll go to the other 
side to gather different eggs." He stole away and paddled homewards, 
singing. At first, the young man cried. After a while he killed a gull, put 
on its skin, took his eggs, and flew over the lake with the gulls. The 
birds were playing directly above Sitco'^'ski's head. Sitco"'ski cried, "You 
bad birds, why are you playing above my head ? " Then his son-in-law 
defecated on him. Sitco^'ski repeatedly tried to hit him, but failed every 
time. His son-in-law defecated on him four times. Sitco"'ski said, "This 
bird defecates like a man, the odor is human. "^ 

The youth got back first, dofted his skin, and walked home. When 
Sitco"'ski approached, his son-in-kiAv's child asked him, "Why are you so 
late? ]My father has been back for a long time." "I have left your father 
on the island." "No, my father is in the lodge." When Sitco^'ski saw 
his son-in-law with the eggs he was angry, but henceforth he let him 
alone. 

(h) 

An old man had a pretty daughter, who was married to a young man. 
He did not like his son-in-law. He was a great dreamer, and used to kill 
l)eople by his power. Once he said to the young man, "Get some willow- 
sticks for making arrows; but before you get the willows, drink from the 
spring near the trees." The youth went and drank of the spring water. 
Suddenly a mountain-lion leapt out of the spring, pulled him down, and 
killed him. A friend of the slain young man married his widow. He was 
also sent for willow-sticks, and perished in the same way. A third youth 
married the girl and was sent to the spring. When he had drunk, the 
mountain-lion came out, but the youth said, "My grandfather, don't kill 
me." The lion left him alone, and he returned with the willow-branches. 
The old man could not sleep, because he had failed to kill his son-in-law. 
At last he said, "Go and kill the big elk in the woods, so that I can make 
use of his horns." The young man started out, but the elk charged on 
him and hooked him to death. 



1 Cf. Russell, p. 204 (Cree). 



156 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Nislory. [Vol. IV, 

A fourth man married the widow. He was sent for willow-sticks, hut 
this time the mountain-lion did not come out at all. When the son-in-law- 
returned, the old man sent him to kill the l)ig elk. Before he <jot tlu>re, 
he met a little old mouse. He said, "My grandmother, I am trying to kill 
the elk, make a hole in the ground for me." The mouse consented to do 
so. She dug a tunnel below the spot where the elk usually lay down. She 
said, "He is too wild, he will kill you." The youth answered, "I want to 
kill him. If you help me, I will give you all the meat." When the elk 
lay down, the mouse gnawed away all the hairs around his heart. The 
man was standing below. She returnetl, telling him she was through with 
her work. He Avent to the tunnel. He could hear the elk's heart beating 
like a drum. He shot an arrow into the aninud's heart. The elk seeing 
no one, ran about in search of the enemy. At last, he came back to his 
old resting-place and turned over to the other side. Then the youth shot 
again, and killed him. He brought the antlers to his father-in-law. 

The old man was getting weak because two of his dream-helpers had 
failed. He bade his wife erect a sweat-lodge. He sweated, then he said, 
to the young man, "Let us go to th(> island to get feathers for the arrows." 
Thev paddled over. When they had arrived, the father-in-law said, "We'll 
walk in different directions." They tied up the boat, and separated, but 
the old man ran back to the canoe and ])a(ldled away, abandoning his son- 
in-law. The youth cried out, "Come back to me," but the old man, 
instead of heeding him, merely replied, "You have killed my helpers, you 
will die on the island." The young man cried. A bird came flying. 
"What are you crying for?" "I can't get out of this island." The bird 
changed him into a bird like itself, and he flew home. The old man was 
paddling, and heard the birds above him. He glanced up. Then his son- 
in-law defecated directly in his eye. The son-in-law- got home before the 
old man. When the latter finally arrived, the young man's son asked him, 
"Grandfather, why do you come home so late? My father has been home 
for a long time." 

The old man sweated once more. Then he asked his son-in-law to 
accompany him on a trip to the other Indians. They started out with 
snowshoes on a cold winter day. They traveled for two days. On the 
third evening they lay down on different sides of the fireplace. Their 
moccasins were wet and had been hung up over the fire. The young man 
was watching his father-in-law. When he saw him sleeping, he exchanged 
his moccasins for the old man's. When the old man woke up, his son-in- 
law pretended to be asleep. The old man made a bigger fire, and, taking 
his own moccasins for his son-in-law's, cast them into the fire. When day- 
light came, the young man claimed his own moccasins. His father-in-law^ 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 157 

said, "I am sorry, my moccasins have been burnt up. Go back to c-amp, 
bid my wife make new ones, and bring them as soon as possible. Before 
you go, pile up plenty of wood here." The young man pretended to obey, 
but merely heaped up a pile of little shavings that were quickly consumed. 
He walked home in a zigzag path, so that he did not arrive before ten days. 
He told his mother-in-law, "The old man has burned up his moccasins and 
wants new ones. Follow my tracks, and you will find him." She obeyed. 
After ten days she got to the i)lace, but only found her husband's corpse, 
huddled together on the ashes of the fireplace and frozen stiff. 

The old woman returned to camp while her son-in-law was hunting. 
She wished to marry the young man herself. She constructed a swing 
over the river, concealing a cut in the rojie. Then she asked her tlaughter 
to get into the swing. The girl asked her mother to swing first, but finally 
she sat down and began to swing. When she was swinging the second 
time, the rope tore, and she fell into the water. Her mother cried, "I am 
feeding the fish in the lake." A big fish came and seized her daughter. 

The old woman donned her daughter's clothes. She did not show her 
face, so that her son-in-law mistook her for his wife. He brought some 
moose-meat. The first night he did not discover who she was. The next 
day, the drowned woman's baby cried all day, and the old woman's son 
also cried for his lost sister. Hearing; the child's wailing, the drowned 
woman rose out of the water to nurse it. Her body, from the waist down, 
was that of a fish. The next night the man discovered that the woman he 
was sleeping with was not his wife. He asked his brother-in-law, "Where 
is your sister?" "]My mother threw her into the water." "What part of 
the lake did you see her in?" The boy told him. Then the man trans- 
formed himself into a stick standing by the water, and his l)rother-in-law 
called his sister, bidding her nurse the infant. Her husband wished to kill 
the big fish that had stolen her. The woman rose from the water. " I have 
never seen that stick before," she said. Her brother cried, "Come nearer I" 
She approached and nursed her baby. Suddenly her husband seized her, 
cut off the fish-moietv of her body, and took her home. Tlie old woman 
fled. 

9. The Evil Parexts-ix-Law. 

An old woman was living with her grandson. One day he said, "1 
should like to get a wife." "Which way are you going?" "I am going 
towards the sunrise." "If you go far, you will meet evil people." Never- 
theless, he set out. He found people camping. "What are you looking 
for?" "I am seeking the man that has an only daughter." They jjointed 



158 Anthropological Papers American Museum of A'atural History. [Vol. IV, 

out the way. At last he got there and asked for the girl. Her father 
said, "She is my only daughter. I am getting old. Only if you do as I 
bid you, may you marry her." 

The first task he set for the youth was to cut down all the big trees on 
a hill. The boy's grandmother had told him to call on her in any difficulty. 
He now called her, and immediately the sound of falling trees was heard. 
He could not see any one. When all the trees were on the ground, he 
returned and told his father-in-law that the task was done. "That is good 
work. Now I am going to cook two cows. Each of us will have to eat up 
an* entire cow." The old man cooked the meat, then they sat down back to 
back. The youth dug a large hole in the ground, and pretending to eat, 
put all the food into the pit. Accordingly, he w^as the first to get through. 
The old man was perspiring. He said, "\Ye '11 try another match. I have 
two pistols. Take one, and let us see which of us can destroy the other." 
They took the pistols. "After pulling the triggers, we'll shut our eyes." 
The old man shot first. He hit his son-in-law in the middle of the fore- 
head, but the shot did not hurt him. The youth's shot also had no effect, 
but in a second exchange the young man killed his opponent. He went 
home, and told his girl, "Your father is dead, he killed liiuist-lf while shoot- 
ing chickens." 

The old man's wife said, "You two may dance inside the lodge, but 
you may not yet slee]) together." The young man was eager to sleep with 
his wife, so he called on his grandmother for aid. She sent lots of people 
into the lodge to dance instead of the young couple, while the lovers were 
sleeping together. The next day the mother-in-law said, "You must dance 
another night, then you may go home." Again he called on his grand- 
mother for help, and she assisted him as before. The youth said to the 
girl, "Let us flee." "IMy mother is wicked, she will somehow kill us." 
The boy was not afraid, however; he transformed himself and his wdfe 
into tumna' tahgagan (a species of birds), and away they fliew. 

When the old woman discovered their flight, she cried, "Wherever 
you go, I shall kill you." They could hear her coming. The girl cried, 
"Do something, I wish to live." Her husband took her into a snake-hole. 
The pursuer went around the hole, searching for their tracks. At last she 
said, "I am going home now, to-morrow I shall pack their flesh." The 
next day they continued their flight. When she pursued them, they turned 
into prairie-chickens. After a while, they transformed themselves into 
mosquitoes. The old woman missed their tracks, and they heard her 
saying, "To-morrow I shall catch them." The next day they fled as grouse. 
They reached a gopher hole, crawled in, and begged the gophers to stay 
outside and cover their tracks. The old woman could not find their tracks. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 159 

"If I do not catch jou by to-morrow, I'll let you go," she said. The 
following day the fugitives fled to a bull-dog flies' nest. The woman knew 
they w^ere there, but the flies were buzzing outside and would not allow 
her to approach. Finally the old woman said, "I'll let you alone now, 
1 am going home," and went away. 

10. Adventures of Two Boys. 

A chief had two daughters. He addressed the young men, saying, 
"Whoever brings me a handsome dog, may marry my daughters." The 
young men went and brought in many dogs, but the chief always said he 
wanted a difl^erent kind. One of two boys at last brought him some small 
dogs. The chief was satisfied, and gave him one of the girls in marriage. 
The second boy, while looking for a dog, got to a beautiful unoccupied 
lodge. He rested there. It was the dwelling of an ogre.^ When the ogre 
came home, he said, "I am going to put you to work, you are going to cook 
for me." The ogre used to cook people and horses. He owned one mule. 
The mule once warned the boy, "After a while you will get killed." The 
boy said he wanted to live and asked the mule to help him. "If you run 
away and see a small dark cloud, that will be the ogre." The boy rode 
away, mounted on the mule. The mule said, "When the ogre pursues 
you, you will make me perspire white sweat. Bathe your body in my 
sweat. The ogre will try to burn you up on a heap of firewood, but with 
my perspiration on your body you cannot burn up." 

After a while the ogre caught up to the boy and made him build a fire. 
The boy said, "I shall first ride around on the mule." The ogre consented. 
The boy bathed in the mule's sweat, then he built a fire and undressed. 
\Mien the fire was crackling, the ogre said, "If you beat me in this trial, 
you may go away." The boy leapt into the fire, but he remained unscathed. 
The ogre said, "If you pass through it four times, then you will win." The 
boy succeeded at each trial. Then the ogre said, "Let me have your horse." 
When he had taken the mule, he asked, "What did you do when it sweated ?" 
The boy told him, and the ogre was also going to grease himself with the 
sweat. But the boy had not told him the truth, telling him to ride gently 
and not to make the mule sweat very much. The ogre followed his direc- 
tions. When he entered the fire, there was a sound like the re{)ort of a 
gun, then the ogre was all burnt up. 

The mule said, "Don't ride me too much and always give me plenty 
to eat." The bov obeved. He returned home. On the way he found a 



1 Waxnun'jange waka°'. 



160 Anthropological Papers American Museum of A'atural History. [Vol. IV, 

beautiful dog. He brought it to the ehief, who allowed him to marry his 
second daughter. The chief had a good stable, and the bov put his nude 
inside. "How did you get it?" asked the chief. Then the boy tokl him 
his story. The mule told the boy not to make him sweat any more, but 
some people were eager to try. One man asked him very often. The boy 
refused to let him mount the mule, but he insisted on going through the 
fire. At last, the boy yielded, and the man rode through the fire, but was 
burnt up. Thereafter the people were afraid of the mule. 

The chief said, "There are some cattle in the sea. It' any one gets 
them, I will resign my chieftaincy in his favor." His two sons-in-law set 
out in a canoe. One of them dived down, but was drowned. The mule- 
owner returned home. After a while he went back, accompanied by another 
young man. He dived in, and brought up four cattle, which he brought 
to the chief. Thus he became chief himself. 

The old chief had a young child. Having no lodge now, he did not 
know what to do. He made a little box, ])ut it in the water, and left the 
boy there. A woman found him and took him home. After he was grown 
up, his father found him. "Where did you get that child?" he asked the 
woman. "I found him in the water." "Tiiat is the cliild I left there." 



11. The Lecherous Sister. 

(a) 

Virgo cum fratre coire concupivit. Xocte dum omnes dormiunt prope 
eum decubuit. Frater nesciens {piacum coiret cum sorore cpiit. In order 
to discover what girl had visited him, he painted his hands and rul)bed 
them on her blanket.' When daylight appeared, all the people went up 
a hill. The youth watched the women fetching wood. When he saw his 
sister's robe stained, he was ashamed. He went home and said, "I am 
going to travel." He prepared his canoe. His sister asked, "W'here are 
you going?" "I am merely playing with the canoe." The girl said, "I 
will accompany you." "Well, get your things ready, and we'll go together." 
She ran back. In the meantime, the young man paddled away. 

The young woman returned crying. Her brother was already far away. 
She called out to him, "Ere you return, all your people will be killed." 
The man paid no attention to his sister, but paddled on. In the night he 
dreamt that his sister had killed all the people. Returning home, he found 



1 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 107 (Blackfoot); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 209 (Arapaho); 
Kroeber, (d), p. 181 (Cheyenne). 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 161 

that she had really killed all by lightning and was flying about as a bird. 
"My brother is back, all the people are dead." She was going to kill him 
too, but he had many dreams, and invoked the Thunder, so that she could 
not hurt him. She did not come near him then. Now he wanted to kill 
her, having dreamt of various birds. He called on a hawk to catch her, 
but when it came near her, she frightened it away, crying, "Big- Eyes, what 
are you coming here for?" She flew from tree to tree. At last she was 
exhausted, and another hawk caught her. Then her brother came, killed 
her, and cut her to pieces. She had burnt up her own parents. He cut 
up her flesh, and left a slice in every fireplace in the camp. Then he bade 
all the people wake up. They became alive, and were glad to have been 
rescued. They divided into two bands, which moved in dift'erent directions. 
In one of these bands there was an orphan boy living with his grand- 
mother. (There follows the tale of the wonderful orphan who secured food 
while other people starve. Yid. p. 134). 

Two young women, as yet unknown to man, tried to seduce their brother. 
The boy was ashamed and asked his father to build a nice canoe for him. 
His father made one, and put plenty of food inside. The boy did not say 
anything to his sisters, but his mother told them their brother was going 
away. The sisters ran after their brother. He pretended to step aside to 
ease himself, but in reality he pulled out in his canoe. The girls saw him 
far out. They called to him to return. When he refused to pay any atten- 
tion to them, they cried, "You will get drowned in the sea." They called 
on a big fish, bidding him devour the boy, but the boy had dreamt of the 
fish and cried, "Don't hurt me, it is I." The fish spared him. 

The two sisters were playing with the children of the camp. They said 
to them, "We will play bear, but you must not touch our anus." They 
played for a while. Finally, a boy touched the anus of both girls. Then 
they turned into real bears and killed all the children, as well as the other 
people, save an orphan boy and girl who had hidden in the moss. U'hey 
also spared their own parents, but they burnt their skin and blinded them 
with lightning. The orphans traveled away. 

The eagle said to the boy, "All your people have been killed by your 
sisters. Your parents are alive, but they are burnt." The lioy returned 
to the camp. He saw smoke rising from one lodge, and found his parents 
there. Thinking their bear-daughters were returning, the old couple were 
terrified, but the boy made himself known to them. Then they rejoiced. 
He asked, "Whv are all these people dead?" "Your sisters have killed 



162 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xatural History. [Vol. IV, 

them all." "When do you expect them to come back?" "At noon you 
will see a black cloud. Your sisters are in it; they cause the thinidcr." 
The youth called upon the birds to kill his sisters. There was a rock jut- 
ting out from the water; he fashioned it into an eagle. The girls caught 
sight of their brother, and were frightened. They went u]) a tree. At 
last, they lit on the rock. Then the stone eagle seized them and held them 
until the boy came, who killed the women, burnt up their Hesh and pul- 
verized it. He took his parents into a sweat-lodge and cured them of their 
blindness. Then he asked his father to look for a ])iecc of hair in every 
lodge. The old man brought the hair to him. 'i'hen he went around the 
next dav, calling on all the dead to get up and build a lire. All woke up. ^ 
The young man told his parents and the other people they would have no 
more trouble, and went away to the sea, where he married. 

The orphan children came near starving; they did not know at first 
how to make fire. (There follows the tale of the ori)han children. The 
orphan boy is identified with the sun-catcher.) 

12. The Witcii.- 

A woman owned a bitch. One day the bitch said, "I am going to give 
birth to two pintos." The woman and the dog simultaneously gave birth 
to twins. Both the boys and the pintos grew fast. One day one of the 
boys was riding his pinto. He heard something coming. He built a fire. 
Suddenly he saw an old woman standing on the other side of it. Both 
went to sleep. The woman woke uj), rose, and put medicine on the boy, 
killing him. When he did not return, his brother went to look for him. 
Finding his brother's corpse, he also went to sleep there. He heard the 
witch coming. "That's the one that killed my brother," he thought. 
The old woman lay down. "My grandson, I am tired out." "You can 
rest on the other side." He did not sleep, but kept watching her. She 
thought he w^as asleep. She had two medicines, one for poisoning, and 
the other for resuscitating people. Wlien she tried to poison him, he seized 
her and killed her with her own medicine. With the other he restored his 
brother to life. 

13. The Faeces as Suitor.^ 

A young woman refused to marry any of her suitors. She always ate 

1 In another version, the lecherous sister's heart is pulverized, and the powder sprinkled in 
the fireplaces to restore the people to Ufe. Cf. p. 180. 
- Cf. " The False Conn-ade," p. 205. 
3 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 151 (Blackfoot). 



1909.] Loirie, The Assiniboine. ](];:> 

a little whitish meat from the flesh of a buffalo neck. 'Whenever she defe- 
cated, her faeces were white. She never grew fat. Her mother said, 
"If you will continue to eat just from one piece, you will starve. Eat the 
tongue, that's a good piece to eat." Then the girl ate of the tongue, and 
her excrements were black. She was angry, scolding them "bad excre- 
ments." She went home, and was angry at her mother. 

In the spring the camp moved. The black excrements were angry at 
being called names. They began to talk, summoning the faeces of other 
people. They agreed to gather together in a heap as large as a man. "When 
the people had moved, this pile marched after them in human guise. "Wher- 
ever the dung-man caught sight of a little piece of cloth or skin on the ground, 
he picked it up and shook it, saying, "I want a bigger one." He found a 
small weasel-skin, shook it, and said, "This is a small legging." The skin 
became larger, and he had a pair of leggings. Then he found a small otter- 
skin, which he transformed into gloves. He found some blanket cloth and 
changed it into a new robe. He found a little paint, put it on his face, 
and soon had the appearance of a handsome Indian. 

The dung-man continued to track the people. After a long time he 
caught sight of their camp. He stood there watching them for a while. 
At length they saw him and said, "He must have come from another camp." 
The girl's father invited him to his tent. The girl herself was confined in a 
menstrual hut, but she could hear the people speaking of the arrival of a 
handsome young man, and looked outside. The old chief gave the visitor 
some soup of animal blood. It was hot, and the dimg-man, who was frozen 
stiff, knew what would haj^pen if he drank it.^ The chief asked him, "Where 
do you come from ? " "From far away." "How many people live there ?" 
"A great many." "^^^lat are their names?" "One of the chiefs is called 
Standing-Hat, another Lie-down-on-the-ground, a third is called Quick 
and another Big-Ball." - As the dung-man was sitting in the camp, he got 
heated and softened. He could not stay within, so he excused himself, 
saying, "I will go out to chase some elk now." In going away, he passed 
the girl's hut, threw a little stick at its cover, and walked off. "When the girl 
looked outside, he ran back and spoke to her. The girl said to her mother, 
"This young man has asked me to go home with him." She put all her 
belongings in a little sack, put it imder her arm, and ran after her lover. 
Looking back, the dung could see her following. A warm mountain wind 
came, and he began to melt. The girl, tracking him, found one of his 
otterskin gloves on the ground, put it on, and found it filled with dung. 
"This young man's gloves are full of excrements," she said to herself. She 

1 Cf. Knud Rasmussen, The People of the Polar North (Philadelphia, 1908), pp. 104-105. 
~ These terms were explained to be descriptive of faeces. 



164 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Histonj. [Vol. IV, 

found his moccasins in the same condition. At last, she cau»;iit up to her 
suitor. He was lying on the ground with his face down, all melted bv the 
heat. His clothes were fine, but they only covered dung. The girl went 
home crying. When she got near her camp, she began to sing, "I have 
followed my own excrements." 

14. The Giants.^ 

Seven young men were living together in a lodge. One day all of them 
went out in search of game. While they were resting near a hill, one of 
them went over the hill and did not return. Anotlu>r went after him, and 
also disappeared. A third man went to look for his lost companions, but 
did not come back. Then the fourth youth said, "I am going to look; if 
anvone has killed them, I will kill him." So he went to the summit, and 
there he beheld some shining object on a high cut-bank. He could not 
resist, but was drawn on by the reflection. Though he sat down and tried to 
hold himself down by the grass, the reflection pulled him along, the faster the 
nearer he got. At last he bumped against something. It was a spear, which 
caught him by his clothes. Iliere he hung until a v(>ry large man came along 
the coulee, packing something on his back. When close to his captive 
he said, " My spear does good work for me, it has killed another man for me, 
I'll take him home." He tried to release the impaletl youth, but his j)ns()ner 
clung tight, so the giant took a club to maul his head. The young man said, 
"No, you will si)oil him by shedding his blood." The giant said, "That is 
so, I did not think of that." So he plucked out the spear with his prisoner 
and wrapped him uj) in a blanket in order to suffocate him. But the man 
.said, "No, let him thrust his head outside, so the people can look at him 
alive." So the giant carried him on his back. In i)assing through a forest, 
the captive seized the limb of a tree, hung to it, and then suddenly let it go. 
He did this several times, and each time the giant thought he had got caught 
in a tree. 

It was getting late. The captive said, "I^et this animal rest here, you 
are tired. Hang him up on a tree and get him to-morrow." "Yes, I did not 
think of that." The giant followed his prisoner's directions and set him on 
a tree. As soon as he was gone, the youth unwrapped himself, covered a 
log with the blanket, and put dirt and rotten wood inside the covering. He 
also took the spear and sat down near the top of the tree. The next day the 
giant came after him, accompanied by his wife and child. The woman 
picked up wood and built a fire. AYhen the fire was started, the giant 

' Fl. B.Ik nap 



1909.] Loivie, The Assiniboine. ]f)5 

reached for the blanket, choi)i)e(l uj) the log, and threw it into a pot of hoilino; 
water. The foam rose and was taken for grease, which the cannibals 
rubbed on their lips. They began to eat the rotten wood. Suddenly the 
young man cried, "Are you not going to take the man down ?" The giant 
said, "That's the man I put up there.' The youth said, "You nuist look 
at your man, or he will fly away." He threw a handful of mud into the 
giant's eyes, so he could not see. Then he seized the spear, and stabbed him. 
The giant fell to the ground. His wife laughed. She asked her son, "What 
shall we do ? Let us go home and have the other people decide what to do." 
They went home. The giant rose with the spear sticking in his head, and 
followed. When he reachetl his lodge, they un})inned the front of the cover, 
so that he was able to enter with his spear. The wise men of the tribe called 
to cure him, but no one knew how to remove the barbed spear. 

At last one man said, "Call I"kto"'mi, he seems to know everything." 
So they called him. The chief said, "You are wise, examine this man, and 
save him." I"kto"'mi went into the lodge, and looked at him. His wife 
told him what had happened. He said, "You should have called me imme- 
diately. You may still save him, but there is only one way. Get a small 
hatchet, lay him flat on his back, and drive pegs through his feet so he won't 
slide. If one of you says, 'Hit him hard,' you will kill him. Knock the 
spear through his anus." He went out. He knew the patient had a good 
horse. While he was gone, one giant drove the spear in, killing the patient. 
After a while I"kto"'mi came back. He said, "Why did you not drive it all 
in and pull it out of his anus ? You have killed him by not obeying me, and 
I shall kill you." The people began to coax him, and gave him the giant's 
best horse. While leading it off, I"kto"'mi said, "I don't care how many 
giants are killed, pi'ovided I get a hor.se." 

Late that evening, the young man descended from the tree and walked 
towards the giants' camp. When it was quite dark, he arrived there. He 
walked on, listening carefully. In one lodge he heard many girls playing. 
Approaching from the rear, he cut a hole in the tipi-cover, and saw a woman. 
Erectam mentulam in tentorii orificium in.seruit. The inmates of the lodge 
all smelt something. "Something has peeped in that smells like a ruminant 
(fa)." All went out. The young man ran away, pursued by the women. 
He stopped at one lodge, peeped in, and found a giantess with her child. 
He entered and sat beside her. She said, "Here is a ruminant," and looked 
for her ax, but he .said, "No, I am your brother." She believed him, ojxMied 
a buffalo parfleche, and, taking out wild turnii)s antl sarvis berries, cooked 
a soup and served it to her visitor, calling him her brother. In the evening, 
her husband came home, unsaddled his hor.se, and made a noise, "Oh!" 
showino; how tired he was. "Here's a ruminant for me," he said, when he 



166 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

saw the youth. "Xo, that's my brother." The giant recognized him as 
his brother-in-law, pulled out flannel, a white blanket, a new muzzle-loader, 
a bow and arrows, and presented them to his visitor. The young man made 
himself leggings of the flannel, and a white coat of his blanket. Then he 
went to stand outside the lodge. I"kto"'mi, hearing about him, came and 
said, "Brother, come to my lodge." Then everyone said he was I"kt()"'mi's 
brother. I"kto"'mi gave him the dead giant's horse, some white blankets, 
and a new muzzle-loader, and bade him stay with him for some time. The 
youth remained there for a few days, then he returned to his "sister." The 
"sister" told him he had better go away, as the giants might kill him. If 
he went, she would get him food for the journey. So she prepared some 
corn, both loose and on the cob, and got him pemmican and other victuals. 
I"kto"'mi said, "Brother, when you leave the camp, don't look back until 
you have passed to the other side of the hill." The young man went, but 
he thought he woidd look back anyway. But as soon as he turned aroimd, 
.something drew him back to the camj) he had left. His "sister" said, "You 
were told not to turn back. Eat some corn when you start again, but don't 
look back." He obeyed this time, and tlid not turn around until he had 
crossed the hill. He got to the place he had started from. He found his 
three lost brothers there, and told them his story. 

15. The Old Husband and the Youxg Lover. 

(«) 

An old woman's grandson desired to steal the youngest of another man's 
four wives. The old man was a great dreamer. The boy went to his camp 
at night and eloped with the woman coveted. The husband dreamt what 
was happening, woke up, and gave chase. When he got close to the fugi- 
tives, they suddenly disappeared, having changed into ants. After looking 
for them everywhere, the old man went home. When asleep, he again saw 
them walking, woke up, and pursued them. They disappeared, changing 
into tall grass. The next time they turned into cottonwoods. When the old 
man could not find them, he went home again. The lovers went to their 
old grandmother. The boy was combing his mistress's hair. When the 
old man saw this in a dream, he was furious and gave chase once more. 
They fled. Before going, the youth gave his grandmother some tobacco, 
bidding her offer it to the old man. When the cuckold arrived, she offered 
him the tobacco, and while pursuing the lovers he smoked it. For a month 
he pursued them without overtaking them. The young man, in the mean- 
time, found many horses and made many fine things. He killed a porcu])ine 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 167 

and ordered his wife to make porcupine garments. Out of the animal's 
skull-bones he made himself a pipe. One day they heard the sound of 
shooting and moved towards the marksman, but could not find him. The 
next morning the boy said, "It is your brother. I have dreamt of him, and 
we shall see him." They moved camp and found the woman's brother by a 
lake. The boy lent his brother-in-law a horse, and the latter went to his 
camp and told the people whom he had met. He returned, saying, "That 
old man is there, he may kill you." Nevertheless, they accompanied him to 
the camp, and the woman went to her father's lodge. 

The old husband invited both the elopers to his tent, but only his rival 
went there. He wore his ])orcupine clothing. The old man filled his pipe, 
and they smoked. The old man thought he would kill his rival while asleep, 
but the young man had mysterious power and knew his thoughts. Finally, 
the old husband said, "I shall give you plenty of food, but if you don't eat 
it all up, I will kill you." He gathered plenty of food, cooked it, and set it 
before his guest. All his friends were there, while his opponent only had his 
brother-in-law with him. "To-day we will have a hot sun,'" said the youth, 
snatching up his porcupine garments. Before beginning to eat, he smoked 
his porcupine l)i})e. Then he went outside and called all the animals to 
come in and eat. A big bear, a mountain-lion, a wolf, a coyote and a lynx 
came into the lodge. The old man was terrified. They ate up all the food 
and walked out again. Then the youth caught the sunbeams and pulled 
them down like a rope. It was getting hotter all the time. The old man 
was perspiring. He jumped into the water, but it was boiling hot. The 
youth told his wife and her brother to put on porcui)ine clothes. Thus 
they escaped injury, but the old man and his fi'iends were all burnt u}). 

An old man had two wives. One of them was young and the young 
men were after her, so the old man watched her closely whenever she went 
to ease herself. One day a young man asked her to elope with him while 
her husband was sleeping. A big snowstorm arose, and they eloped. After 
a while, the storm ceased. When the old man woke uj), he found his wife 
gone. He saw the tracks in the snow going down hill. From the hill he 
saw the youth hugging his wife. He was furious and i)ursued them, but 
suddenly their tracks disappeared. They had changed into icicles hanging 
down from a tree. After a while, they traveled on. He pursued them again, 
but again they turned into icicles. He walked back and saw them once 
more. They were camping in the brush and had made a fire. He caught 
up to them, took off their clothes, extinguished their fire, and left them to 



168 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xatural History. [Vol. IV, 

perish in the cold. Then he went home with their clothes. As soon as he was 
gone, the voung man went oflf for a while and soon returned with plenty of 
clothing, which he had found on the other side of the hill. Thus thev did 
not freeze. The old husband dreamt about his victims and saw that they 
were well provided with clothes. He went back and took the clothes away 
once more, heaping them up in a pile before his own lodge. When he ^\•oke 
up, the pile had turned into snow. He went back and found the fugitives 
clad in their own clothes again. Four times he took their garments away, 
and each time they recovered their clothes in the same fashion. 

After four years had elapsed, the old man met the young one and chal- 
lenged him to a contest. The youth invited him to his lodge. Two big 
wolves were guarding the door, and within there were two large bears with 
which the host's child was playing. The old man drew back when he saw 
the wolves, but at last he entered. "Sit down by my wife," said the young 
man, and his guest took a seat beside his former wife. He desired to go out 
for micturition, l)ut was afraid of the wolves. The two men agreed to 
exchange kxlges. ^rhe yoimg man's child took away the wolves and bears, 
and then the old man occupied his rival's lodge. Thinking that he had 
great powers, the old man proposed a trial of strength. He put his spear 
in the fire. The young man said, " Bring your gun here, I should like to .see 
it." When he had lirought it, the young man broke it in two and flattened 
it with his hands. The old man began chewing his spear, but the young man 
swallowed half of it, pulled it out again, and made a pistol and bullets of it. 
The old man could not take out the spear he was chewing, because by his 
magic his opponent caused it to stick in his body. The young man went 
home. The old husband cried for help. When he was nearly dead, his 
opponent just looked at him, and he was well again and the spear came out. 
The old man departed, and let the young man alone for a time. After a 
while, he came again, seeking to kill the youth, but his opponent took two 
locust-tree ( ?) spines and, shooting them into his heart, killed him. 

It). Lodge-Boy axd Throwx-Aavay's Father. 

A man was living with his wife, who was pregnant. He had a large 
supply of dry meat. Once, before starting on a hunt, he said to his wife, 
"If you should hear someone calling you, don't listen to him. He will call 
you four times, but don't look at him." When he was gone, the woman 
heard someone calling her. The person calling finally asked, "Where is 
the door of your lodge?" She answered, "You know where it is." Then 
the man entered. She offered him food. The stranger said, "That is not 
the way I am used to eat. Put the food on your belly." She obeyed, and 



1909.] Lou'ie, The Assiniboine. 169 

he ate from her belly. ^ Then he cut open her belly, pulled out two children 
from it, then ran around every lodge-post with the woman, went to the fire- 
place, and thence descended underground with her. 

When the hunter returned, he found his twin sons crying. He called the 
wolves, set up a good lodge for them, and bade them guard his children 
while he went in pursuit of his wife. Then he ran around every lodge-j)ost 
and descended through the fireplace. After a while he went above ground, 
and saw lots of people camping by a lake. His wife's lodge was also there. 
He went to an old woman's tent, and asked, "Where is my wife's lodge?" 
"Your wife is here, but these people are bad, they will not give her up to you. 
While you are sleeping, they will try to kill you by the aid of their manitous." 
They tried, but they could not kill him. The hunter said, "Grandmother, 
tell those people to let me alone." The old woman went to them and re- 
turned, saying, "These people want you to swim in the lake." They stuck 
a big post in the middle of the lake and told him to dive in, shake the j^ost 
and return to shore. He went in, did what he was told, and returned in 
safety. They bade him try again. He dived, and did not come back to the 
surface all day. The people thought he was drowned, but in the night he 
returned to the old woman's lodge. She told him the people were going 
to cook him. He said, "When I am cooked, take all my bones with some 
hair, pile them up, cover them with a blanket, and cry, 'Wake up!' Then 
I'll Avake up again." His enemies cooked him. The old Avoman followed 
his instructions. When the bones were piled up, she cried, "Grandson, 
you are sleeping a long time, wake up!" He stood up sound, and said, 
"I will tell you something. When the sun shines into the lodge, you and 
my wife shall hold my clothes." Then he went to his enemies' lodge. ^J'he 
sun shone in. The old woman and his wife held his clothes. He pulled 
down the sun, it grew" hotter, and all his enemies were killed. He took his 
w^ife home. Their twins were beginning to run about. The woman raised 
them. 

17. The Thunder-Bird.- 

(«) 
One summer, there were three camj^s on the margin of a Ijig lake, one was 

1 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 40 (Blackfoot); Lowie, p. 280 (Shoshone); Kroeber, (e), 
p. 78 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 342 (Arapaho); Simms, p. 303 (Crow); J. O. 
Dorsey, (d), p. 215 (Omaha); Lasley, p. 176 (Fox); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 91 (Pawnee); Id., 
(e) p. 91 (Wichita). 

- Ft. Belknap. The idea of an antagonism between Thunder and a water-being occurs 
among the Winnebago and Iowa. J. O. Dorsey (b), pp. 424-425. Cf. also Riggs, p. 142 
(Dakota); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 73 (Pawnee); Id., (e), p. 102 (Wichita). According to Mr. 
Skinner's field notes, the conception is shared by the James Bay Cree. 



170 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\'ol. IV, 

Sioux, and the two others belonged to Assiniboine bands. In the middle 
of the lake there was an island called "the old woman's home." Once the 
weather was cloudy. It began to rain and the rolling of thunder was heard. 
Suddenly a flash of lightning struck the island and lingered there for some 
time. Something was drawn up from the island. It was an animal writhing 
like a snake. The thunder-bird lifted it up 'to the clouds until its tail dis- 
appeared amidst a peal of thunder. While the monster was borne up, all 
the on-lookers had their hair standing on end, and the manes of their horses 
were also bristling up. Anything loose and light was raised in the same way. 
After the thunderstorm was over, snow fell in the afternoon until it lay 
knee-deep on the ground. Then all the lake dried up, and all kinds of 
animals died. 

(The narrator afterwards examined the site and found a turtle-skeleton 
of human size and remnants of some horned animals; the island was cov- 
ered with feathers. The story-teller's aged mother, who professes to have 
witnessed the encounter of the thunder-bird with the water-monster, added 
some particulars. The thunder-bird dropped his enemy three times before 
finally carrying him up, and each time there dropped a blaze of fire. The 
snow continued to fall for four days after the contest. A rainbow-like 
reflection of red, white, and blue streaks was seen on the island, and the 
clouds overhanging it were shaped like V)uffalo-horns pointing towards the 
island.) 

{by 

A man was walking high up in the mountains. He came to Thunder's 
house and saw the young bird there. "Where are your parents ?" "They 
are far away, but they will soon be back." "When are they coming back?" 
"It is about time for them to be home now." "I should like to see them 
from near-by, hide me somewhere." The young bird hid the man under its 
wing. The father came in. "Has no one been here?" "No." "Some 
one must be here." "No, no one has come." "Hold up your wings, let 
me look under them." The bird raised its wings. The old Thunder saw 
the man and threw both him and his son out of the eyrie. "The nest must 
be cleansed, it smells after a man." The mother-bird arrived. "Where 
is our son?" "I have thrown him outside." The mother-bird went out 
and brought him in again. The old man said, "You have picked him up 
again, but you must cleanse the house." 



1 Cf. Kroeber, (e), p. 88 (Gros Ventre); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 30 (Omaha). 



1909.] Loivie, The Assinihoine. 171 

1-S. The Womex who married Stars. 

Two women were in a tipi at night. They were not asleep, but were 
looking out of the smoke-hole. The younger one said to her sister, "I wish 
I eould marry that fiery star. You can have the smaller one for a husband." 
They could see the stars quite close. The older girl said, "Stop talking 
about the stars, you are crazy." Still the younger continued, saying, "1 
should like to marry the larger star, you can have the smaller one." The 
next day the camp was moved. The two girls packed their belongings in 
rawhide bags and slung them on their backs with a shoulder-strap. The 
younger girl's strap tore, and she was obliged to stop and mend it. Then 
her sister's strap tore, and she had to fix hers. All day long the two girls' 
straps tore alternately, so that they fell behind the rest of the people. By 
night they had not yet caught up, and were obliged to camp by themselves. 
About midnight two men came to their lodge; one was old, the other was 
young. "What were you saying last night?" asked the older of the two. 
The girl did not reply. He asked her again. The fourth time she answered, 
"We were talking about the stars last night." "What were you saying 
about the stars?" "I said I should like to marry the bigger star, and my 
sister could have the little one." "I am that bigger star," said the old man, 
"you wanted to have me, let us go home now." The stars took the girls to 
the sky. The country was fine, but the girls felt lonesome. They were 
digging tipsi'n roots one day. The star came over and said, "Don't dig 
near those trees." When he had gone away, the younger woman saw some 
roots near the trees, and said, "I'll dig the roots over there." " Don't dig 
them, the star has forbidden it." The girl would not listen, but began to 
dig until she had made a large hole. She looked down, saw the earth below, 
and recognized her own country. She became homesick and began to cry. 
The older woman asked, "What is the matter?" "Come here and look 
down." The other woman looked down, and also fell a-crying. Spider 
approached them, and asked, "What are you two crying about?" "^^c 
belong down there. Our country is below, it is far off, and we cannot get 
back." "You can get back easily; if you wish, you can return home." 
"Help us, and we'll be happy." Spider tied each to a rope, and connected 
the two ropes with a string. "While you descend, you must shut your eyes. 
If you feel something, don't look. Only when you strike the ground, you 
may open your eyes." 

Spider began to lower them. When the feet of th(> younger struck 
something, she opened her eyes, and both were sticking in the fork ot a 
Cottonwood. Thev could not climb down in anv way, and b(>gan to cry. 



172 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xatiiral History. [Vol. IV. 

A wolverene passed by. They called out to him, "Sweetheart, help us." 
The wolverene answered, "If you two promise to marry me,' I shall help you." 
Thev agreed, and the wolverene took them down. They were taken to his 
house, and saw many good-looking women there, but all had one leg broken. 
While the wolverene was out hunting, these women to!d the newcomers to 
run awav because the wolverene woidd climb up to the smoke-hole and 
jump down on them, breaking their legs also, in order to i)revent them from 
escaping. They said, "If you see something (jueer while fleeing, don't 
touch it, but keep on running." 

The girls fled. After four nights' running, they heard a sound, and 
stopped to listen. They found a nice, fat, clean baby lying on its back, 
crying. The older girl passed by without paying any attention to it. The 
vounger, however, turned back, saying, "Poor child, I want to take it." 
Her sister warned her, but she took the infant, and made it dance up and 
down. The child moved its feet, and managed to open her dress. "Look, 
sister, at what the baby is doing." Again the older warned the younger 
girl, but in vain. Suddenly the baby turned into the wolverene, and threw 
the woman on the ground. Tunc major natu puella fuste copulatoris 
dorsum verberavit. Ille "Vehementius verbera" incjuit "ut (juam ])ro- 
fundissime mentulam inserere possim." Both girls struggled with him, and 
finally prevailed, killing him. 

Then they went to look for their mother. They struck a river, and saw 
people passing in canoes. They hailed one man, asking him to ferry them 
across. He said, "My boat is not good, it is too light, and might u])set. 
The boat behind with a tail at the end is good." When the boat indicated 
approached, they asked the man inside to ferry them across. He stopped 
and allowed them to leap in, but instead of taking them to the opposite 
bank he followed the course of the other canoes. They got to a place where 
many people were camping near the bank of the river. These were saying, 
"Old Diver (cia'ga= hell-diver?) has brought two women." Diver pointed 
behind, and told the women, "That's not my name, it's the one behind 
there they call Diver." 

Diver camped near the rest of the people. In the night he heard the 
people dancing. He ordered the women not to look at the dance, ^ when he 
went out to see it himself. The younger girl wished to see it, and followed. 
As a residt, she also became a diver. The dancers were ducks and geese. 
The transformed woman returned to her sister, and said, "Diver is ugly, let 
us flee." In their places they put bees and ants, covering them up with 
blankets; then they ran away. 

1 For the following incidents, cf. Riggs, p. 149 (Dakota) and Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 272 
(Arapalio). 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 173 

Diver came home after the dance. He called the younger girl. "Wake 
up, I wish to go to bed." There wa.s no answer. At last he picked uj) a 
blanket, and covered himself with it. After a while he felt the ants beginning 
to bite him, but thought it was merely the girls pinching him. He moved 
to the older girl's couch, and saying, "I'll sleep with both," extended his 
arms, as though to embrace both women. Then the bees began to l)uzz, 
and bit his face and body. 

Diver was angry, and began to pursue the fugitives. The women got 
thirsty and lay down on their bellies to drink water. Diver got into the 
water, and killed them with his bow and arrows. When he got home, the 
people asked, "Where are those two women ?" He replied that he had been 
unable to find them. After some time the people detected the corpses. 
Diver feigned great grief. He stayed by a lake, and moaned. That is whv 
the divers make such mournful sounds to-day. He killed an animal, cut 
out its guts, filled them with blood, and carried them home. The j)eople 
looking at him said, "Perhaps he will commit suicide, he feels so lonesome." 
When at a distance, he pierced the guts with an arrow. The peo])le saw the 
blood oozing, and said, "He is killing himself now." ^ Diver plunged into 
the water, and came up unseen near the shore of a distant lake. But the 
next day he was heard saying, "I have killed my wives myself." The people 
said, "He killed those two handsome women. We shall kill him." They 
had a council to decide how they had best dispatch him. They could not 
approach him, because he was hiding in a large lake. At last they said, 
"Let Tosna' (some kind of shell-fish) drink up all the water in the lake." 
Tosna' commenced to drink, until he swelled to the size of a hill. The people 
said, "Look at Tosna', he is getting big." ]\Ini"ku'n (a bird) was there. 
Tosna' had drunk up nearly all the water; there was just a little left in the 
middle of the lake, and there Diver became visible now. All the jicople 
tried to kill him with stones. Then Mni"ku'n broke Tosna's .shell. Be- 
fore Diver could be killed, Tosna' disgorged all the water back into the lake, 
and Diver escaped.- 

1 In an Albany Cree tale taken down by Mr. Skinner, Diver, after killing his brother, 
resorts to the same stratagem. 

2 In several respects, the Stoney version resembles that of the Micmac. Cf. Rami, Legends 
of the Micmac (New York-London, 1894) pp. 160, et seq., 306 et seq. The corresponding rfluiswap 
tale (Teit, p. 687) introduces the wolverene as a character, but in a different connection, and 
the other incidents also differ. The girls' cannibal husband is said, however, to cut off tiieir 
feet in order to test their fatness. The widespread initial incident is found in Wissler and Duvall, 
p. 58 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 100 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 321 (.\rapaho); 
Simms, p. 301 (Crow); Riggs, p. 90 (Dakota); C^. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 60 (Pawnee); Id., (d), p. 14 
(Arikara); Id., (e), p. 298 (Wichita). 



174 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xatural History. [\o\. IV, 

19. Ball-Girl.i 

In a camp there lived a brother and .si.st(>r. The girl took care of her 
brother, cooking and making clothes and beadwork for him. They lived 
together for a long time. When the boy was older, he said, "Sister, I am 
old enough now, we must part. I'll tell you what to do. There is a camp 
near those trees, and within there dwells an old man with his ten sons. 
To-morrow one will come for you; follow him up to the lodge. Before he 
enters, catch hold of his robe and enter with him." The next day there 
came a young man while the boy was hunting. The girl served him some 
food. When through eating, he offered to marry her antl bade lier follow 
him. She got her V)est clothes and work-bag, and followed him. When (hey 
got close to his cam]), he ((uickened his pace. She ran behind him, but just 
as he was entering she looked back to see how far she had traveled. He 
entered, and she did not catch hold of his robe. She followed, and looked 
around for her husband, but all the ti-ii young men were dressed alike and 
looked alike. At the right side of the door an old man was sitting. She 
thought the young man next to him was her husband and sat down Ijeside 
him, but he declared it was not he that had brought her there. She sat 
beside the second, third, fourth and fifth son, and each refused to recognize 
her as his wife. 

She gave up hope, and sat down by the entrance. It was getting dark. 
The old man said, "Sons, you had better go to bed, I want to tell my daugh- 
ter-in-law a story." They all went to bed. He began as follows. "There 
was a camp, where a brother and sister were living together. One day the 
boy told the girl of an old man who had ten sons, one of whom would take 
her home. Her brother bade her seize this man's blanket when he would 
enter his lodge, but she did not do so. When she entered, all the sons 
looked alike. She sat by the first young man and he would not recognize 
her as his wife, then she sat by the second, third, fourth and fifth young 
man, and none would have her." Then he continued, "Her blanket must 
disappear." And the young woman's blanket was gone. "Her work bag 
must disappear." And her work bag was gone. In the same way her 
moccasins, leggings, and dress disappeared. Then he said, "Now I wish a 
blizzard would come and my sons would thrust her out." The blizzard 
came, and they ousted her from the lodge. She wanted to re-enter, but they 
would not allow it. She cried for her brother to help her. He appeared 
and gathered up her clothes, she dressed, and they went home together. 

The boy said to his sister, "Another man will come from the same place. 

1 Ft. Belknap. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. ] 75 

Treat him as you did the first, and follow him. When he gets to the eamp, 
stand outside after he has entered. If anyone from inside calls you, go in 
and sit by the old man." She oljeyed, and again looked for her suitor, and, 
not fintling him among the first five sons, she sat down by the door. Then 
she said, "Let all the sons go to Ijed, I will tell a story." The old man was 
surprised, but told all the yovmg men to go to lied. Then she began. ' ' There 
was a lodge inhabited by a boy and his sister, and in another eamp there 
dwelt an old man with his ten sons. One day one of the young men came 
to woo the girl and brought her home. Her brother had told her to seize 
his robe when entering, but she disobeyed. She could not pick out her 
suitor and was refused by each of the first five sons." She sat back and 
said that she wished some one to go out and get more wood to put into the fire. 
One of the young men rose and did so. Then she said, "I wisli he would 
get lost." And he got lost. The next son went out. She said, "I wish he 
would get lost." And he got lost. In the same way she caused nine of the 
sons to get lost. At last the youngest said, 'I was the one that lirought vou 
home the first time." She said, "I wish you would go out and put more 
wood into the fire." The fire was blazing. She said, "I wish the old man 
would sit in front of me to shield me from the heat of the fire." He took his 
knife and sat down in front of her. She said "All the old man's sons are 
lost, except the youngest." Then she said she was too warm, and suddenly 
pushed him into the fire. Seizing his knife, she disappeai'ed underground 
and went back to her brother's lodge. 

She told her brother how she had killed the old man and his sons. He 
said, "We must flee. If the old man returns to life, he will pursue us." 
They fled to a big rock, lifted it and both went down, after replacing it. As 
soon as they were inside, the old man got to the rock. He was looking for 
their tracks, but could not find out where they were. He walked back to 
his own lodge, thinking that his sons might have been transformed into 
bugs. He could not find any of them and began to cry. The girl peeped 
out from the rock and listened to his crying. Then she said to her lirother. 
"Do you go far away north. You must find I"kto"'m\ then you will be 
safe. I shall go east." 1'hey lifted the rock and separated. She dived 
into the ground and came up again. She saw the old man pursuing her, 
vowing that he would kill her. When he got close, she went underground 
again. She did this four times. After the fourth time, she noticed buftalo 
ahead of her. She had made a ball with (|uills representing the cardinal 
directions, while the center stood for the sun and stars. She ran towartls 
the buffalo. They shied and fled. She took out her ball and showed it to 
them, then they waited for her. They looked at the ball. She laid it on 
the ground, then thev could not move. She killed the biggest buffalo ajid 



176 Anthropoloykal Papers American Museum of Natural Nistory. [Vol. IV, 

cut it up into seven pieces. In the meantime, her pursuer caught up, crying, 
"Ball-Girl, I have caught you, I will kill you!" When he was (juite close, 
she said she was butchering buffalo to give him food. "That is what I want, 
I am hungry." "Well, open your mouth." He opened it wide. She threw 
in the (juarters, and he swallowed them. Then she threw in the other 
pieces, one by one, and he swallowed them. His stomach began to bulge, 
his mouth was getting smaller. She kept the head for the last. "Open 
your mouth wide," she said; "if you don't cat it, I'll kill you." He tried 
to open his mouth wide, but there was only room for the nose; the horns got 
caught. She saw he could not swallow the })iece. Picking up her ball, she 
hit him three times over the head with it. The fourth time the ball rolled 
off backwards along the ground. The earth split along its path, and the 
old man fell in, crying that his sons would rise and kill her. Then she took 
the ball, threw it up, and kicked it. She rose up into the air. Nine of the 
young men came up from the ground in the shape of wolves, running around 
the buffalo and scenting her tracks. But she rose higher and higher to the 
sky and escaped.' 

20. Morxing-Star.^ 

A man and his wife were camping by themselves. She was pregnant. 
While her husband was away, another man would come and embrace her. 
Her lover wished to elope with her, but he did not like to take her with the 
baby in her womb. So he once entered her lodge and said, "I want to eat 
food from your belly." She asked, "How shall I sit?" "Lie down on 
your back, and place the dish on your belly." She obeyed. When he was 
done eating, he stuck a knife into her, and took out the child, which he left 
in the lodge. 

Then the lovers fled underground, entering the earth under the firei)lace. 
When the woman's husband returned, he found the child's body, and saw 
that his wife was gone, He split trees and dried up the creeks where he 
thought she might have fled. W^hen the lovers came above ground again, 
he tracked them. They turned into snakes and crawled into a hollow tree. 
He followed in pursuit, and saw the snakes, but did not recognize them as 
the fugitives. He thought the lovers had gone up the tree. He climbed up, 
but could not find them. At last he climbed higher still, reached the sky, 
and became the Morning-Star. 



1 It was not definitely stated that she became a star. 

2 Yexl'afigEn ye'a a'mba tabe', literally, Star-shining-daylight-chases. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 177 

21. The Seven Stars. "^ 

There were seven youths on this world; one of them was red-haired. 
They did not know whether they had any parents. They were having a 
hard time of it. "^Vhat shaU we turn into?" they asked one another. One 
said, "Let us change into the earth." The one named the Wise-One 
(Ksa'be) said, "Xo, verily the earth is mortal, it gets caved in (?)." Then 
another one said, "Let us become rocks." "No, they are destructible, 
they all Ijreak asunder." A third one said, "We must change into big trees, 
into very big ones." "Xo, they are perishable; when there is a storm, 
they are blown down." Again one of them said, "Let us change into water." 
"Xo, it is destructible, it dries up completely." The fifth said, "Let us 
change into the night." "X'^o, the night is fleeting, soon the light appears 
again." The sixth boy said, "Let us be the day." "X"o, it is fleeting; 
when the sun disappears, it is dark once more." The Wise-One said, "Xo, 
the blue sky above is never dead, it is always in existence. Shining things 
live there. Such we shall change into. In that region let us dwell." Well, 
so they do. The smallest of them took them up, hoisting them by means of 
his spider-web. He set three on one side and three on the other, seating 
himself in the middle. When the last one had gotten up, he tore the web 
in the middle, threw it down, and gave it to the spider. 

22. The Dipper.- 

A woman had illicit intercourse with a snake. Her husl)and once 
watched her as she was fetching firewood. She pounded a tree-stump, 
and from its hollow a snake came out. The man decided to kill his wife. 
He went on a hunt, killed a moose, and returned in a zigzag line. Then he 
told his wife to fetch the meat, following his track. The woman obeyed. 
Li the meantime, the husband went to the tree, killed all the snakes, gathered 
their blood in a cup, and boiled soup from it. When his wife returned, he 
gave her the soup. After she had swallowed it, he told her it was the snakes' 

1 Obtained as a text at Ft. Belknap. 

2 This tale may be resolved into the following elements: A, snake-paramour, B, rolling 
head; C, magic flight; D, crane-bridge; E, ball-game before transformation into stars. A 
occurs in Russell, p. 202 (Cree); Kroeber, (d), p. 185 (Cheyenne); Wissler, (c), p. 195 (Dakota); 
Schoolcraft, p. 265 (Ojibwa). B is found in Maclean, p. 71 (Cree); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 13 
(Arapaho); Kroeber, (d), p. 185 (Cheyenne); Wissler, (c), p. 195 (Dakota); Schoolcraft, p. 
265 (Ojibvva); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 116 (Pawnee). For C, compare Maclean, p. 71 (Cree); 
Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 13 (Arapaho); Wissler, (c) p. 195 (Dakota); Schoolcraft, p. 249 
(Ojibwa); G. A. Dorsev, (a), p. 117 (Pawnee). D occurs in Maclean, p. 72 (Cree); Lowie, p. 
254 (Shoshone), Schoolcraft, p. 267 (Ojibwa); G. A. Dorsey (a), p. 117 (Pawnee). E is shared 
among others by the Gros Ventre. Kroeber, (e), p. 108; and the Arapaho, Dorsey and 
Kroeber, p. 238. 



178 Arithropological Papers American Museum of Xatural Hisiori/. [Vol. IV, 

blood. She started towards the tree and found all the snakes dead. She 
was furious. 

The couple had seven children, one of wlioni was a jfirl. 'I'he man bade 
them flee. They ran away, while he stayed in the lodge, having fastened 
the door-flap. He heard the woman aj)proaching with yells. When she 
stuck her head inside, he cut it off with a bone knife. The head began to 
roll after the children, caught them, and carried them to a tipi, where they 
lived together. One of the boys once killed a moose and was stretching 
the skin. The head went out to scrape it, warning the children not to look 
at it. One of the boys wanted to look out, though another boy warned him. 
He insisted, and his brother finally yielded, saying, "Well, then look at our 
mother." The head knew the boy was peeping out, and said, "I will kill 
all my children." The children ran away, pursued by their mother's head. 

The girl had an awl. She gave it to her brother, who threw it behind 
them. A great number of awls sprang up, and the head could not get across 
the points. After three days, it managed to get through, and again pursued 
the children. The girl gave her brother a little piece of flint. He threw 
it behind them, and a big fire started up. The head was burnt in the fire, 
all its hair being singed off. After a long while, it got through the fire and 
continued the pursuit. When it came near, the sister gave her brother a 
piece of rock. When he threw it behind them, it turned into a big mountain. 
The head could not get over it at first, but finally it passed across. The 
children came to a deep river. Two cranes were standing there. The 
boys said, "Let us travel across your necks to the other side." The birds 
allowed them to cross. Then the children asked them not to allow their 
mother to cross. When the head came and had i)assed to the middle of the 
crane's neck, the bird threw it into the water. 

After a while, the head got out again and started after the children. The 
sister made a ball and said, "Let us play ball." They stood in a circle and 
threw the ball to one another. While doing so, they rose to the sky and 
became the Dipper. The head could not jump high enough to reach them.^ 

1 Another narrative consists exclusively of the details of the snake-paramour episode and 
the husband's revenge: A man was staying with his wife and children. For a long time, they 
remained in the same place. The woman used to dress up carefully, combing her hair with 
great nicety. Her husband was wondering for whom she dressed up hke that. He kihed a 
moose one day and in the morning bade her fetch the meat. The woman said, "I will first fetch 
the wood." "No, it is a long way off, get the meat as soon as possible." The woman finally 
obeyed. The man searched for her tracks when she went for wood. They led him to a big 
stump with a little round hole. He returned home and brought a sharp knife and a cup with 
him. He pounded the tree. A snake came out, and he killed it. He left its body hanging 
half-way out of the hollow, and gathered up the blood in his cup. He made soup of it. When 
his wife returned, she quickly unpacked the meat and wanted to go for firewood. Her hu.sband 
said, "First eat this soup." "No, I 'U get wood first." "No. you had better eat first." At 
last, she knelt, and gulped it down. The man said, " This is your lover's blood." The woman 
ran screaming to the stump. When she saw the snake's corpse, she cried, "Wherever you go, 
I will kill you." The man shut the lodge-door. W'hen his wife opened it, sticking in her head, 
he cut it off. 



1909.] Louie, The Assiniboine. 179 

23. The Bear-Woman. ' 

(a) 

A woman had daily intercourse with a bear. The people found out 
about it, and killed the bear. His wife was angry. She asked the people 
to give her a piece of the bear's leg-skin. Out of this she made a complete 
skin, covered herself with it, and killed all the people except her parents 
and sister. A strong man tried to kill her, and hit her in several places, 
nevertheless she remained unhurt. Her young sister asked, "How is it that 
you did not get hurt?" "I can only be hurt in the right ])aw." Two of 
the bear-woman's brothers were out hunting. Returning home, they found 
all the ])eople killed. Their little sister told them their older sister had 
slain them all. The bear was sleeping at this time. The girl said, "If you 
cut her right paw, you will kill her." (3ne of the boys stuck his arrow in her 
paw and killed her. Then he took out her heart, dried it in the sun, ]jul- 
verized it, and sprinkled some of the powder on each of the fireplaces of the 
slain people. Then they all woke up again. 

ih) 

Some girls were jilaying. Another girl came along and was invited to 
join them. "No, I don't like to i)lay." At last, however, she consented, 
saying, "Well, I will i)lay, but don't play Avith my anus." They began to 
play. As they were playing, the girl got bigger and bigger. The others 
began to tease her. She got more and more like a bear. Some of the girls 
ran away, but she killed them. The ])eople in the camp .shot at her, but 
could not kill her; she killed all of them. Her young sister hid in a dog- 
house. At last, the bear-woman found her. The girl cried, "Don't kill 
me, I'll fetch water for you and comb your hair." So the bear spared her, 
and they lived together. During all this time, their four brothers were away. 
The bear used to abuse her sister and make her work hard. One day she 
said, "Get wood for me." The girl went out and met her four brothers. 
They gave her a rabbit, but she was afraid to take it, because the bear would 
ask her whence she had obtained it. The brothers said, "Place the rabbit 
down there and hit it. When she asks you how you killed it, tell her you 
did it that way. Also find out which is her vulnerable spot." When the 
girl came home with the rabbit, her sister asked, "Where did you get that 

' Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 68 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 105 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey 
and Kroeber, p. 238 (Arapaho); Simms, p. 312 (Crow); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 292 (Omaha); 
G. A. Dorsey, (e), p. 69 (Wichita) 



180 Anthropological Papers American Museutn of N^atural History. [Vol. IV, 

rabbit." "I killed it myself." "How did you do it ? Let me see." The 
girl then showed her, hitting the rabbit in the eye. The girl then asked her 
where she was vulnerable. The bear said, "If my toes are wounded, I shall 
die." The girl went and told her brothers, who asked her to put a stick 
under the bear's toes while she was sleeping. She obeyed. Then the best 
marksman among them shot an arrow at each toe, thus killing the bear. 
Thev cut her to j)ieces, heaped up firewood, and burnt her up. Then they 
pounded up the bones, and sprinkled the powder on every fireplace. Then 
the boys shot arrows into the air, crying to the dead, "Look out for the 
arrows, run awav!" Then all awoke and ran awav.^ 



24. BuRR-^yoAIAN.- 

Long ago, there lived a very handsome youth. All the girls were eager 
to marry him, but he did not care for women. There was a good-looking 
girl who was living with her grandmother. She pro])()sed to the youth, Ijut 
he refused to marry her. The girl returned and complained to her grand- 
mother. The old woman was angry, and said, "Let me stay behind when 
the camp moves." When the camp was l)roken, the old woman remained 
in the rear. The men went out to hunt. She allowed them to pass without 
saying anything. At last, when the young man came, she asked him to 
pack her on his back. "Why do you ask me to do this?" "I am unable 
to walk. Carry me on your back and put me off near the camj)." Finally, 
the youth consented and carried her near the camp. There he tried to set 
her down, but she stuck tight. He tried to throw her off, running against 
trees, but she still stuck to him. When he saw he could not get her off, he 
began to cry. Some women, hearing the noise, ran up to see what was the 
matter. When they tried to pull her off, the hag cried, "Don't bother me, 
I am his wife." They could not get her down; they went to the youth's 
father and told him what had happened. The old man said, "Whoever 
pulls off the old woman, may marry my son." A number of women tried, 
but all failed. Whenever tliey caught hold of her, the old woman cried, 
"Let me alone, I am married to him." There were two good-looking girls 

1 A third Stoney version combining elements of the two other variants closes as follows: 
They shot at lier toe, but missed it. Slie pursued them. "I'll kill you, wherever you go." 
The girl said, "Let us make a ball out of this piece of a robe." She made a ball and told her 
brothers to stand in a circle and play ball. They threw it to one another, and ascended to 
the sky, forming the Dipper. 

Cf. Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 238, also the story of The Dipper in this paper, p. 177. 

2 This story was said to symbolize the tenacity of the frog's nuptial embrace. Cf. J. O. 
Dorsey (d), p. 215 (Omaha); Lasley, p. 177 (Fox); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 95 (Arikara); Id.. 
(a) p. 87 (Pawnee). 



1909.] Loicie, The Asdniboine. ],S1 

who did not say anything, but thought they could rid the youth of his hui-dcu. 
They went there and found him lying on his stomach. One went on either 
side. They began to pull. Four times they pulled, and the last time they 
})ulled the old woman off, whereupon they killed her. The youth's back 
had been fouled by the woman's urine. They washed him, and doctored 
him in a sweat-lodge. Thus they restored him to his former condition. 
When he was clean again, they had him for a husband. 

25. The Sxake-Max.^ 

(a) 

Two men were traveling together for a long time. Thev were awav 
from camp all summer. (Jne tlay they reached a big mountain. A large 
snake was lying in their path. They could not but cross it. One said, "Let 
us burn the middle part of its body." They built a fire, and thus burnt 
themselves a passage. One of them said, "Let us eat the part of the body 
that has been cooked by our fire." His comrade tried to dissuade him, but 
his friend cut off a slice and began to eat. After eating a large piece, he was 
ready to go on. On the fifth day after this adventure his body, from his 
feet to his knees, was changed into the skin of a yellow snake. The next 
night he was a snake up to his waist. The next night all his body up to his 
breasts was that of a snake. His comi)anion was frightened and ran away, 
but the snake-man ran with him. They lay down to rest again. The next 
morning the snake-man roused his friend. "Sit up, I have become a different 
being." His friend saw that he had turned into a large snake just like that 
which had lain in their path. The snake- man said, "Go home, I am going 
to stay in this river," and plunged into the Avater. 

One day. Thunder wished to kill this snake, but he could not find it. 
He only found turtles on the bank, which had developed from the spots on 
its skin. 

Two men were traveling together. About noon they were getting hungry 
and tired. One of them said, "^Ye had better turn back." On their return 
walk they saw something in front of them. It was a piece of burnt snake- 
meat. One of them said, "It looks like good meat, let us eat of it." His 
comrade said, "No, the old people say it is bad." Nevertheless, the man 
picked up a piece and ate it. They passed on. After sunset the snak(>- 

1 Maximilian, II, p. 185 (Mandan); p. 230 (Hidatsa). Cf. further: Kroeber. (e) p. 11« 
(Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 150 (Arapaho); Simms. p. 296 (Crow); J. O. Dorsey. 
(d), p. 322 (Omaha); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 78 (Arikara). 



182 Anthropolugical Papers American Museum of Xaturai Historij. \\o[. \\, 

eater said, "One of my toes is getting white." The next day there were 
white spots all over his feet. He gradually became white up to his knees 
and waist. Later, he became white up to his mouth. Finally, he turned 
into a big snake, and said, "Friend, you had better go home, I'll stay in 
this river." His comrade returned to camp, and told the })eoplc what had 
happened. 

The snake man's younger brother was getting lonesome. He was always 
lamenting the loss of his brother. Once he walked u]) a hill, crying. The 
Thunder asked him, "]My grandchild, why are you crying?" "]My brother 
is gone, and I am lonesome." "You cannot see your brother now, but 
come home with me. ]\Iy tail feathers are s])read out, you can sit on them." 
Thus he carried the boy up a steep mountain to his house. The boy saw a 
pile of bones. He thought to himself, "I never eat this kind of meat." 
I'hunder sent him away to himt. When he returned, he cooked and ate the 
game. Thunder said, "You see ])eople's bones here, they are my children's. 
Some being that is all iron, except for its mouth, has slain them. If you kill 
this monster, I will help you to get back your brother." The boy said, "If 
you can't kill it, I am surely too weak." At last li(> said, "I need a bow and 
two arrows, one larger than the other." Thunder bade him get feathers 
and elk sinew, and himself got willow sticks. The boy made arrows out of 
them, but he could not get feathers. Thunder then phicked out some of 
his own wing feathers. When the boy was ready. Thunder said, "It is 
time for the ogre to come." A loud noise was heard. "That is the one 
that has slain my sons." Again the noise was heard. The boy prepared 
his arrows. The monster just showed his eyes in the west. While he was 
looking around, the boy who was holding the arrows in his mouth shot him, 
striking his heart. He rolled down like a mountain. Then Thunder split 
him in two with his lightning. "Now I will help you to see your brother," 
said Thunder. "I see him in the middle of the river as a big snake, but 
when I approach he will make himself little." He put the boy under his 
tail feathers, and they flew to the river. They saw a big snake there, but 
as they approached it grew small. W'hen they got quite close, nothing 
could be seen but a turtle. The boy said, "All I can see is a turtle." I'hun- 
der said, "Stand close to it, I'll go away, then you will see your brother." 
When he had flown away, the turtle stood up as a man. "Thunder is l)ad, 
he kills people. I never kill anyone." The boy rejoiced to see his brother 
again, and they went home together. 

io) 
Sitco'^'ski was living alone on the earth. He was voung and handsome. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 1,S3 

and was the best hunter. He declared, "My name sliall l)e Caribou." 
He went out hunting once while it was raining and hailing. He killed and 
skinned a buffalo. Suddenly Thunder took him away to his lodge on a 
mountain top. There were people's bones there, belonging to Thunder's 
children. Thunder said, "Watch my young ones. I don't wish to lose 
them all, when the ogre comes." The ogre was all iron, except at the neck 
and mouth. Caribou said, "I need two arrows." Thunder brought him 
the arrows and departed. x\fter a while. Caribou heard something coming. 
When it came close, the clanking of iron was heard. He could see the head 
of the ogre. It was horned and had a face both in front and in the back. 
When it lay down near the eyrie. Caribou shot it twice in the neck and killed 
it. When Thunder returned, he was very glad. He rolled the ogre's 
corpse down a mountain, breaking it in two. Then he took Caribou home. 
The people had heard the sound of the ogre rolling down the hill. Caribou 
told them what he had done. Then the hill was named Two-Faces-Broken- 
in-Two. 

Caribou once asked a man to take a walk with him. Tliey traveled 
together for ten days. One morning, they saw something lying in their 
path. It was a big snake, looking like a hill. Caribou said, "We can't 
cross. We'll have to burn the snake." So they burnt it up and cooked it. 
Caribou wanted to eat the meat. His comrade tried to dissuade him, but 
Caribou tasted a piece and found it sweet. His comrade also tasted some, 
but did not like it, and went home, followed by this frientl. In the evening 
they built a fire. Caribou said, "I am queer." He began to look like a 
snake. The other man was scared. He did not sleep, but kej^t walking all 
the night. The next day Caribou's skin was almost completely like a snake's. 
Both were tired and went to sleep by a river. Suddenly Caribou roused his 
companion, "W'ake up, I am cjueer, I have turned into a l)ig snake. Go 
home to tell the people. I shall watch this river. If anyone crosses it, 
he must first throw in some gift. Unless he does so, I shall devom- him."' 
I'hen Caribou dropped into the river. 

Thunder wished to kill the snake, but could not catch it. It would 
disappear or turn into a turtle. Thunder asked for the assistance of Cari- 
bou's friend. This man made many little frogs, which killed the turtle. 

26. The Awl-Elbow Witches.- 

Two bad old women used to sleep together. Whenever anyone came 

1 The demand for sacrifices mentioned in the myth, and the actual offering of such to the 
serpent among the Mandan and Hidatsa, is vouched for by MaximiUan. 

2 Cf. Riggs, p. 140, (Dakota), and the last paragraph with The False Comrade, p. 205. 
The motive occurs in James Bay Cree mythology (Skinner). 



1S4 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

to the door, they asked him to sit down inside. When the visitors tried to 
pass out again, the women, who had awls at their elbows, would pierce and 
kill the people with them. Once a man came to the door. "Grand- 
mothers, I wish to visit you, but you must sit back to back and must not look 
at me." Then he rolled up his blanket, saying, "I will sit in the middle." 
But instead of sitting between them, he merely i)ut his blanket in. When 
the witches thought he was there, they tried to ])ierce him, but only stabbed 
and killed each other. 

These women also had l)ad medicine tied up with pointed sticks. If 
they wished to kill anyone, they just unwrai)ped the stick and touched the 
person with it, and he would turn into a rotten stick. They also had another 
medicine for disenchanting their victims. The man who killed them 
touched them with their bad medicine to make sure they would not recover. 

27. The Comrades' Pr.wk.s.' 

(a) 

Two boys were living together as comrades. They said to their ])arents, 
"We will go to look for people." The father of one of them raised objections, 
but the other consented, and they went away. On the third night of their 
journey one of them said, "Let us sleep in separate shelters." "Don't say 
that, comrade." "Yes, we shall camp apart." They built a fire and 
camped apart. Before going to bed, the one who objected to camping by 
himself heard the noise of chopping outdoors. It was a dark night. He 
went out cjuietly and saw his companion sharpening his legs to a point. 
He got scared and ran away, pursued by Sharpened-Leg. He climbed up a 
tree. Sharpened-Leg said, "Now I shall catch you, comrade." He kicked 
the tree, splitting it in two. It came tumbling down. He kicked his com- 
rade repeatedly, piercing him, but not killing him. Finally, he cured him 
again. 

They traveled on together. That night the man who had fled proposed 
that they camp apart. In the night, Sharpened-Leg heard snorting outside. 
Looking out, he saw that his partner had turned into a large buffalo. He 
was scared and ran away, chased by the bull. On account of his sharpened 
legs he could not run very fast. He climbed a tree. The bull hooked it until 
it tumbled down. Then he hooked Sharpened-Leg again and again, ripping 
every part of his body and nearly killing him. At last, he let him alone. 



1 This theme is very popular among the Stoneys. Several versions were obtained. The 
Sharpened-Leg incident occurs both in other combinations {ante, p. 118) and as a distinct story 
(p. 186). Cf. Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 257 (Arapaho). 



1909.] Lou-ic, The Assinihoine. 185 

They traveled on. At nightfall, Sharpencd-Leg said, " I wish to urinate." 
He went outside and turned into a big elk. Idie buffalo-man was scared 
and fled, screaming. When the elk was close to him, the buffalo man 
climbed a tree. The elk uprooted the tree, and repeatedly knock(Ml down 
the buffalo-man, nearly killing him. At last, it ceased, and made him well 
again. 

The next night when they Avent to camp, the buft'alo-man said, "Let us 
camp apart." In the night Sharpened Leg heard a bear growling. He 
fled, but a grizzly pursued him. He climbed a tree. The bear followed. 
Both fell down, and the bear bit off' half of his companion's nose. Finally 
he restored him. 

Sharpened- Leg said, " I am afraid, let us stop this now, let us be friends 
again." "No, you were the one to begin." "Let us stop now." "No, 
let us try once more." Sharpened-Leg begged him to desist, and finally 
his companion consented. They resolved to live together as friends. "If 
you try again," said the bear-man, "I shall kill you. Now get your feet 
again." Sharpened-Leg found them, but could not jnit them on, so tiie 
bear-man set them for him. Then they traveled on in jieace. 

(&) 

A man living far south dreamt of a man in the north and wished to be- 
come his comrade. He went in search of him, and they set out traveling 
together. The Southerner killed a bear and ate its tongue. He said to his 
companion, " Kun away now, something cjueer has happened." He changed 
himself into a bear and pursued his friend, who fled in terror. The fugitive 
fell down. The bear just played with him without biting him, then he 
turned into a man again. The Northerner killed a buffalo and ate its tongue. 
He turned into a buffalo and pursued his friend, hooking him so as merely 
to rip his clothes. After a while, he let him alone and resinned human 
shape. 

They traveled on for a long distance. The Southerner killed a moose. 
"We'll make two fires in the night," he said. He gave half the meat to his 
comrade. They ate without talking. They began cracking the bones for 
marrow. Then they counted how many bones each had cracked. The 
Northerner said, "I have broken all the bones, give me some marrow. If 
you won't, w^e'll play at kicking." The Southerner got scared; he chopi)ed 
off his feet and sharpened his legs. The Northerner saw it and went outside 
to a tree of his own age to which he said, " If this man speaks to you, answer, 
'No.'" Then he ran away. Sharpened-Leg came back and said, "Let 
us play at kicking." The tree rejjeatedly answered, "No." After a while, 



186 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Yo\. IV, 

Sharpened-Leg went to his comrade's lodge and only found a stumj) there. 
He was angry, split the tree, and pursued his companion, holding his feet 
in his arms. When he had caught up, the Northerner climbed a tree. 
Sharpened-Leg began splitting it. The Northerner begged the tree to hold 
him. It obeyed and Sharpened-Leg, striking the thickest part of the trunk 
with his sharpened leg, got stuck. Then the Northerner jumped down. 
Sharpened-Leg asked to be freed, but his comrade refused. At last, he said, 
" If I help you, let us stop these pranks altogether." Sharpened-Leg agreetl, 
then his comrade released him and set his feet for him. 

They traveled on. The Northerner had a great deal of power. The 
Southerner said, "To-day we shall meet many people." His comrade 
replied, "I am not afraid of anything; if lots of people come, I have a war- 
song." Both of them had rattles. A great many people came their way, 
and they began to sing. The chief said, "Two friends are coming." The 
chief wished to test which of the two was the braver. He ])ut them on 
horseback and had the horses led to a steep river-bank. "When the leg- 
sharpener got close to the water, he got frightened and caught the line. The 
other man was not scared at all, but whipped his horse onward. Then the 
chief declared the Northerner to be the braver of the two. 

28. Sharpened-Leg.' 

Two young men were living together. One day one of them heard his 
comrade chopping outside the lodge. He saw that the other man was 
sharpening his leg to a point, after having chopped off his feet. He was 
frightened and fled, running for a night and a day. He arrived at some high 
trees, and climbed up one of them. Sharpened-I.<eg pursued him. When 
he got to the tree, he espied his comrade, and fell to kicking the trunk. 
W'ith a dozen kicks he split the tree, so that it tumliled down. He looked 
for his former comrade, whom he found lying on the ground. "Why did 
you run away? We used to play together." He kicked his comrade with 
the point of his leg, and killed him. Then he walked away to some other 
trees. He began kicking these also, but his leg stuck fast, and he died in 
this position. When the two men did not return to camp, the father of the 
one slain went to look for them. He got to their lodge, and then followed 
their tracks until he reached the corpse of his son and the tree where Sharp- 
ened-Leg was caught. 

Sharpened-Leg was named Ca^ska' (Ground-Hog), and his r-omrade 
Umbis'ka (Eagle). 



1 Cf. Kroeber, (e), p. 87 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 112 (Arapaho)- Kroeber 
(d), p. 169 (Cheyenne). 



1909.] Lou-ie, The Assiniboine. \S~ 

29. The Magic Springs. 

An old man was living with his son, his daughter and her husl)an(l, who 
was a great hunter. The two brothers-in-law hunted every dav one winter, 
but coukl not find any tracks. There was a great deal of snow, and the 
young husband made himself snowshoes. He passed through an imfrozen 
spring. When he came home, his wife saw blood on his snowshoes. She 
said, "I am glad you have killed a moose." "I have not killed anvthing, 
I have merely stepped into a spring." The girl paid no attention to him, 
but told her father, "My husl)and has killed some game." The voung man 
was ashamed. His father-in-law said, "Bring me the snowshoes, I want 
to look at them." When he saw them, he was glad and said, "We'll eat 
plenty of meat now." He smelt the snowshoes. The young man sat with 
bowed head, afraid to look up. Finally, he said, "All day I could not find 
any track or other sign of any game." The girl's relatives said, "You have 
killed something, for there is blood on your snowshoes." He protested that 
he had merely jiassed through a red spring. At last, the old man proposed 
to go to the spring with him. The next day the father-in-law stripped two 
trees of their bark and pushed one strip into either end of the spring. Then 
he told the people to get ready to shoot. He pushed in a stick and called 
on a moose to come out. A doe appeared and after running a short distance 
was shot. Then he cried, "Young moose, come out." A young moose 
came out, and they shot it. Next he cried, "Big buck, come out." A 
buck appeared, and was shot. "I have seen many springs like this," said 
the yoimg man. His brother-in-law said, "Let us look for such springs 
every day." They skinned the moose, roasted it and ate it. Then they 
went to a bear spring. The old man looked at it and said, "There is a 
bear within." He put in bark, and poked the ground. A big black bear 
appeared, and the young man killed it. They had plenty of fat. The old 
man said, "Every spring has some kind of game in it in the winter." Now 
the young man went hunting for a spring every day, and they were no longer 
in want. 

30. The Buffaloes' Ward.' 

There once lived an orphan boy, who was raised by his grandfather and 
grandmother. One day his grandmother packed her travois, strapped the 
boy to the frame, and went to fetch wood. The dog gave chase to a jack- 
rabbit, and ran away with the baby. After a long while, he returned, but 



1 Ft. Belknap. Cf. the opening paragraph witli Wissler and Duvall, p. 92 (Blackfoot). 



188 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Yo\. IV, 

the child had fallen oft". The old woman came home crying and told her 
husband what had happened. The old man asked the herald to announce 
that he wished some one to help him in searching for the child, and that he 
would reward those who aided him. Several young men came to his assist- 
ance, but their search was in vain. 

The same evening a buft'alo l)ull was grazing with three cows and several 
calves. They found the lost baby. The bull picked it u]), pitying it, and 
carried it the first day on their westward route. The next day a cow carried 
the infant, and nursed it. They took turns at carrying it. At last they 
arrived at a large lodge, the home of the bufl'aloes. 'lliere they brought up 
the foundling. When the boy was large enough to run about, one buftalo 
asked him, "Do you remember where you came from ? " "No." Then the 
bufl'alo told him that he was different from them, not having any fvu- or hoofs. 
He pointed at the pemmican and berries they had kept for him, saying, 
"This is the food we raised you with, but we eat grass." He told him tiiat 
he was born among the Indians, that his mother had died soon after, how his 
granny had strapped him to the travois, how he had been lost and found, 
and that he ought to see his own peo])le. llie boy did not know what 
"people" meant, so they explained it to him. They encouraged him to go 
through several ceremonies and ])romised to take him home. He answered, 
"I don't like to leave you, but if you take me to my own tribe, I shall be 
willing to go." They traveled with him for several days. When close to 
the camp, they halted. "Beyond that hill your grandfather is still living." 
A man walking on the outskirts of the camp discovered the boy. He offered 
to take him home. When the l)oy's grandi)arents heard a boy had been 
found, they thought this might be their lost grandson. They remembered 
cases where babies had been raised by foreign tribes and had ultimately 
returned. They went to the boy and cjuestioned him, and he told the whole 
story. "The buftalo told me I had grandparents here." Then they made 
themselves known to him, and took him home. 

At night, while the boy was resting, a voice was heard exhorting him to 
do what he had been told. In the morning, the old woman would ask what 
had happened. One day he made the following announcement. "I am 
going to call my grandfathers, and I want the people to aid me. I am going 
to call four buffaloes. Let a lodge be erected in the middle of the camp- 
circle. Let all that wish to help me bring new feathers, and beads, and shells 
and calico." The lodge was erected, and the gifts were heaped up inside. 
Then the boy started out over the hill and called four buffaloes from the 
herd that had raised him. They appeared in the distance. The boy went 
back to camp, and bade all the people tie up their dogs. Then four buffaloes 
came nearer in single file. They went right to the lodge. All the people 



1909.] Lowie, The Assimboine. 189 

looked at them. The boy entered also, put flannel around their necks, tied 
feathers to their hair, and divided the other gifts among them, telling them 
this was their reward for rescuing him. 

The buffaloes went away. The boy told the people his friends would 
come the next morning. Early the next morning the buffalo occupied the 
entire camp-circle. So far as anyone could look, nothing but buffalo were 
to be seen. The people were scared. They entreated the boy to save them 
and not have the buffalo trample them down. He replied, "They will not 
hurt you, they are only coming as visitors. Don't chase them now." He 
took what goods had remained, and distributed them among the buffalo. 
That night all the herd disappeared. The boy also vanished. He was not 
seen any more. 

31. The Buffalo-Boy. 

A Blood Indian dug a hole in the ground; in it he left meat to bait eagles, 
which he caught by the legs and killed. Thus he killed a great many, and 
brought them to camji. When he was about to go again, his father warned 
him. "You have enough, don't go back for more." The youth disregarded 
the warning. He went back, erected a four-post frame near the hole, and 
tied himself thereto in order not to be carried away by the birds. He heartl 
a noise in the air, and noticed a big red eagle descending. He tried to catch 
him in the usual way, but the bird seized his hands and carried him to a 
mountain, where he left him astride on a saddle-shaped crag. For four days 
he was left there without food or drink. At last the eagle came and took 
him back to the earth again. Before leaving, he gave him some of his 
wing-feathers. He bade him go home with them, leaving the feathers on 
the ground while he was sleei>ing. Every morning they would indicate the 
direction in which he was to travel. On the fourth day he was to get to a 
hole in the ground, enter, and offer the feathers to whatever being he might 
meet. 

The boy obeyed. On the fourth day he went into a pit, and met a large 
buffalo, to whom he presented a feather. The buffalo did not hurt him, but 
said, "When you meet another buffalo, present him also with a feather.' 
He met the second buffalo, and gave him a feather and also some sweet- 
grass obtained from the eagle. He got to a buffalo wallow. Following the 
bird's directions, he pulled out some moss. He saw the buffalo in their 
camp. To each he gave a portion of sweet-gras.s, and a feather. One old 
buffalo said, "I will give you my blanket; when you get to the hill, put it on. 
Then lie. on the ground, turn over, and shake yourself." He did, and turned 
into a buffalo. 



190 Anthropoloyical Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

After a while he returned home. His parents thought he had died. 
They had cut their hair, and were lamenting his loss. He came upon them 
and asked, "Why are you crying?" They recognized him. They erected 
a lodge for him, and j)laced some grass within. He ate the grass like a 
buffalo. His father noticed it and bade his wife cut more grass for their son 
to eat. The young man's wife was frightened. She thought her husband 
also snorted like a buffalo, but he quieted her. For four days he continued 
to eat grass, then he ate the food of ordinary men.^ 

32. The Grizzly and his Ward.- 

The people were hunting. One boy was sent for meat, but did not return. 
For several days they were looking for him, but could not find him. The 
boy had lost his way and could not get back. He walked along crying. 
After some time he met a grizzly bear. The bear asked, "Why are you 
crying?" "I have lost my way." "Stay with me." He stayed with the 
bear all summer, feeding on berries. In the fall the Bear said, "We ought 
to look for some place to hibernate in." They went into a cave and sj)ent 
the winter there. At the end of the winter, the Bear said, " Spring is coming. 
Your parents are lonesome, I shall give your father my blanket." 

One day the Bear and the boy heard a man coming. He stopped near 
the cave, heard the Bear moving within, and reported the fact to his people, 
saying, "Let us try to kill the bear." The Bear knew what he was saying 
and instructed the boy not to be frightened when they would shoot him. 
Many Indians were heard coming. The Bear hid the boy in one corner of 
the cave. Then he lay down with his arms before his face. One man shot 
the Bear through the head. The frightened boy screamed aloud. They 
pierced the Bear's cheeks and inserted a rope to pull him out with, but he 
was too heavy. Then one man went inside to push from the rear. He 
found the boy covering his face with his arms. He addressed him, but the 
boy would not answer, for he loved the dead Bear. At last, the boy's father 
said, " This is the boy I lost." 



1 A Stoney tale presents a combination of elements found in this and the preceding story. 
A baby boy, strapped to a travois, is lost, raised by a buffalo and ultimately recaptured by the 
Indians. He puts on a buffalo-robe with a horn headdress, eats grass for a long time, and 
expresses his preference for a buffalo life. In another Stoney version, the buffalo present the 
boy with a buffalo-scalp and a medicine pipe. The pipe would turn every night so as to indicate 
the direction he was to follow for his next day's journey. By putting on the scalp and rolling 
on the ground he could transform himself into a buffalo and thus flee from enemies. Returning 
to his parents, he eats grass in the night. He becomes chief of the buffalo-pen, and his descend- 
ants inherit the ofBce. 

2 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 93 (Blackfoot). 



1909.] Louie, TJie Assiniboine. 191 

33. The Gratefll Bear. 

An old man had a daughter, Avho married a man from another tribe. 
Before she left him, her father said, "Should your husband abuse you, come 
back to me." The woman was maltreated by her husband, so she fled from 
him. In the evening she got to a creek, which she was afraid to cross. She 
went into the brush, and found an old bear-cave. Looking in, she found 
it was empty, and went to sleep there. After a while she heard a bear 
coming. She was frightened, expecting to be killed. ^Yhen close to the 
entrance, the bear stood still, scenting the woman. Finally, he entered. 
She thought he was about to kill her. He growled, pushed her, and put his 
paw on her palm. She saw that a stick had pierced it, and that he wanted 
her to remove it. At last she pulled it out with her teeth. At daylight the 
bear said, " I will tell you something. Before you reach home, you will see 
the camp of bad people. Hide in the brush. In the next camp after that 
you will find your friends." The woman obeyed. She hid when in sight 
of the first camp, then traveled all day. Finally she saw two horsemen, one 
of whom turned out to be her brother. 

34. The Young Bear. 

A woman dreamt that she had a young bear. She asked her husband 
to try to kill a female bear and bring her the cub. The man obeyed, and the 
woman then nursed the cub together with her own baby. One day the bear 
and the baby wrestled, and the bear won. After a while they wrestled again, 
and the boy won. The bear was angry and began to bite. The woman 
whipped both of them. The cub ran away and lived on berries. Once, 
when a woman came in search of berries, he seized her. She tried to free 
herself, but he held her fast, and they lived together. In the winter they 
stayed in a cave. They had plenty of food inside. The Bear said, "We 
need not starve, we can live well." In the middle of the winter, the woman 
bore a cub. At the beginning of the spring, the Bear once said, " I am going 
to stay out for a night." While he was gone, the woman fled with the cub. 
She ran all night, as well as the following day and night. The next morning, 
she heard something behind her. She also saw many lodges by a river in 
front of her. She ran as fast as she could. Her people, who thought she 
was dead, recognized her as the lost woman. They killed the Bear. The 
cub played Avith the Indian boys. One day he struck a boy with his paws, 
killing him. In the same way he killed two other boys. When he was 
playing with the fourth boy, his mother asked him not to kill him. The cub 
said, "I'll kill another, then I'll stop, mother." He tried to avenge his 



192 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

father's death. He was playing with the biggest boy, who had lots of power, 
so the Bear could not injure him, but only broke his own claws. After that, 
he never attacked anyone. When the women went berrying, the Bear 
accompanied them, but he did not return with them. He stayed by himself, 
eating berries. Finally, he met a big bear; henceforth the two bears dwelt 
together. 

35. The Bear-Wife.' 

(a) 

A chief's son and another young man who had but few relations were 
traveling together as comrades. After several days' journey they arrived 
at another camp. They returned to their own band again. On the way 
home, they got to a clump of trees. Going down a coulee they found a 
sleeping she-bear lying supine by a big rock. The chief's son said, "Com- 
rade, I wish to embrace her." His companion tried to dissuade him, l)ut in 
vain. The chief's son stripped, and, asking his friend to watch, tiptoed up 
to the bear. He embraced her, but she did not wake up. He dressed and 
ran away, saying, "When she wakes up, she will pursue us." They ran 
on for a long time. They finally got home. 

After some time, the bear came to the youth while every one was sleeping. 
He felt something warm leaning against him, but did not move at first, 
trying to think what could be lying beside him. At last he rose, and found 
that it was the bear. The other people did not know what he had done. 
The young man thought it was the same bear he had met on the road. He 
aroused his father. "Father, build a fire. There's a bear by me, but don't 
be afraid. If she wanted to, she would have hurt me when she first came in." 
The bear got up in the morning and sat up on the bed. Her mate requested 
his father to ask the people for eagle-feathers, red flannel, and shells. A 
herald was sent to the camp-circle and soon got the things wished for, which 
the chief's son presented to the bear. She wrapped the flannel around her 
neck and decorated herself with the feathers and shells. The young man 
then said, "You had better go home now," and she departed. 

The next year the two comrades were passing through the same part of 
the country as before. They noticed a boy on the hill, who disappeared. 
They ran after him. He was shy, but they caught him. The other young 
man asked the chief's son, "Do you remember what you did last year? 
This is your son." His friend thought so too and took the boy home. They 
kept him, and he played with the other boys. Several days later, the bear 

1 Ft. Belknap. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. I93 

came. Her husband asked the chief for more flannel, feathers and shells. 
Having decorated her as before, the man bade her depart. She growled. 
Her husband understood her to say, "This is your son. Keep him. If he 
had fur like mine, I would take care of him; but as his flesh is like vours, 
you may do so. When old enough, he will aid you by his mysterious powers. 
He will secure for you horses and scalps, and you will become a great chief. 
I have given him all my power. I am not coming back any more." 

The boy grew up. He did what his mother had predicted. He went out 
alone, caught horses, killed the enemy, and returned with the scalps. He 
became a great chief. He always dressed in a big bear robe, and carried a 
shield and two big knives with him. His father used them also. They did 
lots of harm to the enemy. After his father died, the boy remained a chief 
initil his own death. 

Two men were traveling together. They found a she-bear stretched out 
on her back and sleeping. One of the men was frightened, while his com- 
panion embraced her. The former ran home, the other slept with the bear, 
who did not offer any resistance. The bear invited him to her cave. It was 
fitted up like a lodge and contained plenty of food. The bear said to her 
husband, "When you go home, I will accompany you." They went towards 
the camp. When close to it, the bear said, "I will come to your lodge to- 
night." The boy told his parents nothing about his bear-wife. When they 
were sleeping, she came in and lay with him. When the man's parents 
found their son sleeping with a bear, they were frightened. They would 
not stay in the lodge, but went to another tent. The bear went back to her 
cave, saying she would see her husband again. After a while the man 
visited his bear-wife. She gave birth to a boy, who was of human shape. 
Whatever he said, happened. He often took part in fights, but was never 
hurt. He killed many people, but no matter how close to him the enemy 
shot, they could never kill him. 

36. Snake axd Bear-Womax. 

Once the whole country was burnt up. Only a big snake was left. He 
walked along and felt lonesome. "I should like to see some people." He 
walked on and finally saw a woman on a hill. When he was close to her, 
she was frightened and was going to flee, but Snake said, "I am lonesome, 
I only wished to find a human being. Why are you afraid ? I have traveled 
a long time hunting for people." The woman, who was a bear, said, "I 
am the only person left." " We had better camp together," said the Snake. 



194 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Histor;/. [\o\. IV, 

The Bear agreed, so they found a good site and were going to cani|) there. 
"What are we going to have for a tent?" asked Snake. The Bear rc] )Hed, 
"At sunset we shall have a tent. I should also like to get some buckskin 
for moccasins, go away for a while and before you return 1 shall have made 
a lodge." Snake went off with his bow and arrows and killed a deer. He 
took some of the meat home. As he approached their camping-ground, 
he saw a fine lodge. The Snake saiil, " I should like to move our camj) to 
the place where I killed the deer. How are we going to pack the lodge?" 
"Leave it where it is," she answered, and transplanted it to the desired place. 
She dried the meat, dressetl the skin, and then asked her husband to get two 
more skins. The Snake killed two does, then his wife had three skins. 

After the woman had finished drying the meat, she said, "We had better 
see my father." The Snake iigreed to go. He never slept nnich, beiivg 
afraid of his wife's magical powers. The Bear said to him, "You had 
better sleep, I won't hurt you." The next morning, when the Snake woke 
up, he looked around and found his father-in-law, a large bear, there. The 
Bear asked, "Who is your father?" "1 don't know, 1 don't know where I 
come from." The okl man said, "I know. At one time everything was 
burnt up. You lived alone in the water. Then you came out. Your name 
is Tome'sese (Snake)." They stayed there for one year. Then the old 
man said, "This winter you are going to stay in the next coulee. Whoever 
finds my house, may have my robe. If anyone finds your house, give him 
your robe. The winter will seem to you like one night." They stayed 
close together all winter. The Snake became more like a bear every morning. 
In the spring, his wife went outside the cave and announced, "It is spring, 
it is time for you to go out." The old man said, "We will camp together," 
and they joined a lot of bears. 

The Snake said, "I should like to go with my wife to our former camp." 
The old Bear instructed them as follows: "If you find people who have 
killed a bear, don't eat his fiesh, don't drink his blood. If you do, it will be 
like eating myself. If you want a bear- skin, kill a bear gently." It was 
sunset now, and all went to sleej). When the Snake and his wife awoke, they 
were back in their old lodge. 

37. The Beaver-Man.' 

(a) 

A young man, who had never l)een married, always had dreams. He 
told his father, "When you go hunting, don't walk close to the lake." The 

1 Found by Mr. Skinner among tlie Cree. 



1909.] Loivie, The Assiniboine. 195 

old man forgot his warning and once, while returning from the chase, he 
walked by the lake. He beheld some beavers, and among them a beaver- 
woman, who said to him, "I want to marry you, my house is below there." 
The old man undressed, and followed her, after hanging up his clothes by 
the dam. Then the people dreamt about what had happened, and the voung 
man helped his father to get out. Another man, who had dreams, challenged 
the young man to find the beaver-woman. Accordingly, he went to the lake, 
entered her house, and never came back. 

A man found several beavers at work. He heard them laughing like 
women and thought he should like to marry them. He doffed his clothes 
and was going to dive into the water, but one of the beavers said, "Wait 
awhile, I'll first see my father." The old beaver said, "First give him some 
beaver-grease to paint his body with, then you can have him." They gave 
him the grease, for without it he could not have stayed in the water. He 
lived with them for a year and had a child by one of his wives. They built a 
strong house in the water. The people tried to kill the beavers, but could not 
catch them. One young man knew where the beavers dwelt and told all the 
people. He hafl seen and recognized the beaver man, and announced that 
he had seen the lost tribesman. The people then killed all the beavers 
except the beaver- man and one female, whom they allowed to go. 

38. The Piqued Buffalo-Wife.^ 

(a) 

A man wanted some eagle- feathers. He got to an eyrie, found four 
young birds there, and plucked off their wings. I'he old eagle attacked 
him, but was killed in the struggle. The chief of the eagles, Big-Eagle, 
then pursued the man and, catching hold of his head, flew with him to a 
mountain-toj), where he left him astride a crag. The man was nearly 
starved. After ten days the eagle returned, gave the man two feathers 
from each wing, and took him down to a buffalo trail. " ^'ou will meet an 
old buffalo-chief. He will l)e wild, but don't run away. Put one of the 
feathers in his head, and he won't hurt you." 

When the buffalo came, the man followed the eagle's directions. 'I'he 



1 Cf. Grinnell, (c), p. 104 (Blackfoot); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 395 (Arapaho); Kroeber, 

(d), p. 186 (Cheyenne); Simms, p. 289 (Crow); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 94 (Arikara); Id., (a) 
p. 284 (Pawnee). 



196 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\o\. TV, 

buffalo told the man he would meet another wild UufValo and hade him put a 
feather in his head also. The man obeyed. The second butt'alo then said, 
"My youngest brother is coming behind me. Put a feather in his head." 
The man obeyed, and though the bull was ])rei)aring to kill him, he left him 
alone as soon as he was offered the feather. The bull said, "At the end of 
this road you will find a spring and you will see the tracks of a butfalo cow. 
Don't tell her about the tracks (?)." When the man got to the tracks, he 
said, "I should like to eat kidneys, I .should like to eat butfalo feet." The 
cow appeared and asked, "What did you say about me?" "I did not say 
anything about you." "I heard what you said; I want to take you home." 
She took him to the cam}) as her husl)and. There they gave him his brother- 
in-law's kidneys to eat. 

The Indians were making a bufl'alo-pound. The man's father-in law 
told him not to look outside his tent. But when the man heard the buffalo 
running he looked out and saw his brother chasing buffalo. Then he nuide 
bows and arrows, saying, "I am also going to catch bulfalo." 'Hie next 
morning he went to the Indian camj) and gave each man two arrows, 'i'hen 
they killed most o^' the buffalo. 

The man picked up grass, willow- leaves, and other kinds of food, and 
asked the old buffalo, "What would you like to live on?" 'I'he old buffalo 
tried the different kinds of food. Me said, " I prefer grass." Then the man 
asked the moo.se to choo.se, and he picked out willow-leaves. The bear 
chose berries and roots, the deer grass and leaves. 'I'his is how the animals 
got their food. 

The man had a calf l)v his butt'alo-wife. He also married a moo.se- 
woman. His brother, Magpie, was lusting for one of the wives. One day 
the man was out hunting. ^lagpie asked the women to race. The bufl'alo- 
Avoman won. The second time the moose made a nnid-hole in her rival's 
path. The buffalo-woman stuck in the mud, and the moose won. The 
buffalo-woman was angry, and when she had gotten out she returned to her 
father, accompanied by the calf. When her husband came home, he found 
one of his wives gone and pursued her. When he got to the buffalo camp, 
the old buffalo got up a dance of the buffalo, in the course of which they 
trampled the man to death. 

Mag])ie was living with the moose-woman. When his brother did not 
return, he went to look for him. The calf told him how the buffalo had 
killed his fatlier. Magpie looked for his brother's hair. At last, he found 
some of it, took it back to the camp, and restored his brother to life. Then 
the man said to the calf, "Tell your grandfather to get all the buffalo after me. 
We shall fight." When the buffalo came after them, the moose- woman 
began to cry. INIagpie said, "Give me some red iron (?)." He chewed it, 



1(^09.] Loicie, The Assimboine. ]()J 

threw it in the air and thus made an iron house. The hufValo ran ajjainst it, 
but only killed themselves. Some were scared and ran home. 

Magi)ie married a buti'alo and a moose-woman. The buti'alo gave birth 
to a calf. The two women were jealous of each other, each wishing to stay 
alone with her husband. Magpie once declared that he would stay with the 
one that would defeat the other in a race. They began to run on level 
ground, and the buffalo ran ahead. Then the moose said, "I wish you 
would get stuck in a mudhole before you get back." On their way back, 
the buffalo got stuck and lost the race. When she extricated herself, she 
was very angry and returned to her father. 

When Magpie found that the buffalo-woman had deserted him, he 
followed after her. The buffalo calf was lingering behind his mother. 
When the man got near him, he said, "Look, my son, I am thirsty and ex- 
hausted." The calf said, "Follow my footsteps and you will get to a good 
spring." The man obeyed and found good water. The calf said, "^'ou 
wull get thirsty three times before we reach the buffalo camp." The man 
continued following his wife and got thirsty again. Again his son directed 
him to a spring. After drinking, he ran after his wife, thinking he might 
catch her, but he never even caught sight of her. At last they got to the 
buffalo camp, where there were many lodges. The buffalo-woman went to 
her father's lodge. "W'hat is the matter, my daughter? Why do you come 
back?" "I had a race with the moose- woman, and got stuck in a mud- 
hole. She has my husband all to herself now." The man was afraid at 
first, but finally he went to his father-in-law. The old buffalo said, "We 
are going to have a war dance now. Put on your headdress and your best 
clothes. Watch the buffalo and act like them." Before dancing, Magpie 
said, "I am hungry." The old buffalo said, "I'll give you something to 
eat." Then he allowed him to eat one of his brothers-in-law, l)ut ordered 
him not to cut his legs and to pile up the meat after skinning him. After 
the man had eaten, the dance began. They danced three times without 
hurting him, the calf dancing beside his father. The fourth time all the 
buffalo jumped up, hooked him, threw him continually in tlie air, and killed 
him. 

When INIagpie did not return, the moose-wife began to cry. Her brother- 
in-law said, "Stay where you are, I'll go to look for my brother." He 
started out. At last, he found a buffalo trail. He was afraid to enter the 
buffalo cam}), but, seeing a young calf, he asked him, "Where is my l)rother ?" 
"The buffalo have hooked him to death in their war-dance." Magpie's 



198 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

brother stayed outside the lodges and hstened here and there. He heard his 
nephew crying. The cah told him how his father had been hooked and 
trampled to pieces. He walked on the dance-ground until he found a small 
bit of Magpie's hair. He wrapped it up in his blanket, blew smoke at the 
blanket, and said, "Wake up I" Thus he restored his brother to life. 
Magpie got angry at the buffalo, seized one of the buffalo by his horns, and 
made a fire that burnt up his hair. That is why the buffalo have curly hair. 
The moose was staying with ^lagpie and his parents. One day all the 
buffalo came to attack them. The old man went outside the lodge and saw 
the buffalo thundering along. All were terrified except ^lagpie, who con- 
tinued to sleep. "Look, all the buffalo are coming, ^et U|)!" For a long 
time he j)aid no attention to them. At last, he got uj), asked for water, 
washed himself, and asked his mother for some iron. She .said there was 
none. Magj)ie looked for it himself, found a small piece, and chewed it up. 
Thus he transformed their lodge into one of heavy iron. The buffalo ran 
against it, but could not destroy it, while ^Iag))ie, sitting on the roof, shot 
many of the l)uffalo. Sitco"'ski joined the l)ulfalo, saying, "I'll try to kill 
Magpie, give me some iron horns and I'll hook his house." F'or a long 
time ^Magpie did not notice him. At last, he said, "What is Sitc<)"'ski doing 
there?" "Oh," answered Sitco^'ski, "I was only joking." 

Long ago the Stoneys were fighting with a hostile band. One Stoney 
boy had a beaded jack-rabbit tail stuck in his head. He had a bone knife, 
with which he used to cut off jicojde's heads. Both his own ])eople and the 
enemy were afraid of him. He was called Jack-Rabbit. The enemy shot 
at him, but could not hurt him. He pursued them and cut off their necks. 
They fled, pursued by the Stoneys. After a while Jack-Ral>bit went to 
look for another chance to fight. Before he got to the enemy, he met a 
young woman. She was one of the enemy's chieftainesses and warned him 
not to go near the camp, "Don't follow me, or you will have a hard time." 
Nevertheless, he followed, and hid in a coulee by her camp. The girl 
called all her people. "Watch, I have seen somebody." Jack-Rabbit 
heard what she was saying. He lay down and began to shoot at her. The 
woman, whose name was Porcupine, had never been hurt before, but Jack- 
Rabbit killed her. The people wondered who had caused her death, but 
when they went to look for him, they only found a rabbit in his hiding-place. 
As soon as they were gone, he re-transformed himself into a man and as such 
entered the camp. He went to an old woman's lodge. She advised him to 
go away or he would get killed, but Jack-Rabbit answered, "No one can 



1909.] Lowie, The Asdniboine. 199 

kill me," and stayed there. He wa.s joined bv another man, who had come 
a great distance and became hi.s comrade. 

Sodalis Leporem certiorem fecit virginem semper eodem loco mingere 
quo minxi.sset juvenis et eomodo gravidam fieri. Lepu.s ((uodam loco 
minxit, et eodem loco virgo. Jack-Rabbit went away. After a while, the 
girl gave birth to a child. The people bade Jack-Rabbit go home. Before 
lying down to sleep, he heard the woman saying, "Ha, ha, ha! If your 
father kills a black-fox, we'll use the .skin." Jack-Rabbit killed her, l)ut 
let the child live, and traveled on. The next night he heartl the woman 
saying the same words as before. Again he killed her, sparing the child. 
The next day he journeyed on. In the night he heard the same voice as 
before. He killed her and burnt her, then he walked on, and killed an elk. 
In the night he heard the woman coming again. She was saying to her child, 
"Your father has killed an elk, we'll cut lots of meat." Jack-Rabbit said, 
"I won't kill her any more." She asked him why he had done so before. 
He said, "I can't kill you anyway, I'll marry you now." 

When the boy was big, the woman said, "Your comrade is always angry, 
I'll go back home." She went across the mountains. Jack-Rabbit fol- 
lowed her, but could not overtake her. (There follows a fragmentary 
version of the piqued buffalo-w^oman story. The calf points out a spring, 
w^here his father may drink and prepares him for the tests awaiting him. 
He arrives at the buffalo camp. Six buffalo dance with him. He is to pick 
out his son from among other calves. His son helps him by shutting one eye 
and lowering one ear. Thus, Jack-Rabbit succeeds in the first recognition- 
tests, but in the last he picks out the wrong calf and is killed.) ' 

The buft'alo moved camp. The calf walked on crying. He stopi)ed to 
Hsten at every little hole. He found a piece of his father's hair; it groaned. 
He made a bow and arrows. Standing near the hair, he shot an arrow into 
the air, crying, "Run away, you'll get hurt." The first time there was 
another groan. The second time he cried again, "You had l)etter run, or 
you'll get killed." He heard a human sound in reply. The third time 
there was a human body lying there, but it did not get up. The foin-th 
time Jack-Rabbit was alive again and rose. The boy transformed the hair 
into a great many people. With them Jack-Rabbit pursued tlie buffalo. 
He caught up to them. "We will play to-day. First you i)layed with me, 
now I'll play with you." He went to his lodge and called on a big frost t(j 
come. The old buffalo was shivering. "Hold on," he cried, "I'll let you 
have my wife, don't make it so cold." The lodge-cover had a hole in it 
and the sun w-as shining through. Jack-Rabbit began to pull down the 



1 Cf. Wissler and Duvall. p. 118 (Blackfoot). 



200 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. VI, 

sun. While it was frosty outside, it got hot within. The butfalo got hot, 
and began to move around. Jack-Rabbit pulled it down further. The 
buffalo got so hot that his guts burst. The lodge was getting burnt. Then 
Jack-Rabbit let the sun go back again. 

39. The Wolf-Wife.^ 

A man dreamt of a she-wolf and took her to wife. He slept with her in 
his lodge. The old man saw his son sleeping with her. After a while, the 
young man consorted with another woman. The wolf was angry and killed 
her, then she departed and gave birth to a child that looked partly human 
and partly wolf-like. When grown-u]), the boy looked for his father and 
lived with him. He was a good hunter and ran so fast that he could catch 
the fleeing deer. After a while he found his mother and took her to her 
husband, who was very glad. 

40. The Antelope-Woman.' 

Some men were hunting antelope. Having locatetl the game, they 
approached a wood. One of them said, "I want to stop here, wait for me 
by that hill." It was so hot that all of them stripped and carried their 
clothes along. They waited for the young man, but he did not return. He 
met a beautiful girl. He approached her and asked, "What are you doing 
here?" "I am looking for roots." "Who is with you?" "No one. 
Where are you going?" "I am looking for antelope." "I sliall follow 
wherever you go." He asked her whether there was anyone with her, and 
again she answered there was not. He was about to embrace her, when 
suddenly a friend of his appeared and asked, "What are you doing?" The 
young man jumped up, and the woman, turning into an antelope, disap- 
peared in the brush. He followed her. His friend pursued him, but 
could not catch him, so he returned to camp and told the young man's 
father. All went to look for the young man in the brush. One man dis- 
covered the hero and signaled to the other men looking for him, but the lost 
youth said, "Friend, let me go, I have become a male antelope, and she is 
my wife now." They wanted to catch both, but they escaped. Nothing 
more was heard of the young man. 

From that day the Indians believe that antelopes may turn into women 
and lure away men. 



1 Obviously a very fragmentary version. 

2 Ft. Belknap. Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 162 (Blackfoot); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 354 
(Pawnee). 



1909.] Lowie, The Assinihoine. 201 

41. The Red Hawk and the Black Hawk. 

A lot of peo})le were starving. The Red Hawk was waiting to devour 
them. He met the Black Hawk and told him, "Many people are goinf to 
starve here, and we can have lots to eat." The Black Hawk said, "I wish 
to help the poor people." The Red Hawk said, "You cannot get the better 
of me in anything." The Black Hawk answered, "I do everything slowlv, 
nevertheless you cannot beat me. AYe'll see which of us is the better." 
Red Hawk said, "If I beat you, I'll eat those starving people." In the 
night both went into a wood. They saw many rabbits. Red Hawk was 
used to hunting rabbits, while Black Hawk generally killed mice. After 
a while, a rabbit came along. Red Hawk said, "Kill this rabbit." Black 
Hawk flew in pursuit, seized it, but could not fly with it. It ran a little 
distance, then he killed it. It was the first rabbit he had ever killed. The 
two birds went to another place, where there was plenty of timber. Thev 
saw some mice. "Catch those mice," said the Black Hawk. Red Hawk 
fiew after them, but his wings struck the trees, making a noise. He thought 
he had caught one, but when he brought it back he found it was only some 
dung. Black Hawk saw that it was only a dog's excrements. Four times 
Red Hawk tried to catch mice, but at each trial he only caught some dung. 
Then he bade Black Hawk try. Black Hawk flew noiselessly and caught the 
mice. Red Hawk was beaten and went away. The Black Hawk taught 
men to hunt. They killed game then, and did not starve. 

42. Frog.i 

Some people were camping; Frog lived near-by. One of the men in the 
tribe had many good-looking children, while all of F'rog's children were ugly. 
While the children were all playing together one day. Frog stole the youngest 
of the good-looking children, which was just beginning to walk. He raised 
it. "How is this?" asked one of Frog's children; "this child is handsome, 
and all the rest of us are ugly." "()h, I washed him in red water, that is 
why he is handsome." At last, the man whose child had been stolen re- 
captured the kidnapped boy. He was very angry at Frog. Frog was scared 
and went into the water. That is why frogs live there now. 

43. The Crane and the Otter. 

Some birds lay eggs early in the season, some later, but the crane is the 
last to hatch. When the young ducks and geese wen- flying away to a 



1 Cf. Schoolcraft, p. 246 (Ojibwa). 



202 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Naturul History. [Vol. IV, 

warmer country, the young crane was still too weak to fly. "Winter was 
approaching. The mother-bird asked Otter to keep the bird for lier during 
the winter; in return she would reward her in the spring. Otter kept her 
ward in a warm hole. Once Osni' (Cold) came to the camp, killed Otter, 
and carried ofY the young crane to his home, where he made him stir the fire 
for him with his bill. He was never allowed to go anywhere else. He was 
starving and became ugly; the fire burnt his back, so that the crane's skin 
is of a reddish-brown color now. In the spring, when the south side of the 
hills was warm while the northern side was still frozen, the young crane 
knew his mother would return soon. He went into the sunshine and called 
her. He continued to do so later in the spring. Osni' cried, "Come in 
here, stop that noise, my grandson." The crane cried all the louder. Osni' 
pursued him and nearly caught him, when suddenly a cla{) of thunder was 
heard and the lightning struck Osni' and tore him to pieces. The Crane 
was there, and asked her young one how he had been treated during the 
winter. He told her that Otter had treated him well, while Osni ' had 
abused him. The old bird looked for another otter, and said to him, 
"Henceforth the cold (osni') will never kill you." Thus she paid the Otter 
for his services. This is why the Otter can live in the water throughout 
winter without freezing. 

44. Wl\sKEDII)l'\. 

A man saw some elk on the other side of a river, which he could not 
cross. "I wish," said he, "that some one would take me across." An elk 
came to get him. The elk was thin and bony, so the man said, " I want to 
ride another one." Then a fat elk came. He rode across, and, as soon as 
they had gotten to the other side, he drove his knife into the elk. At first 
he could not pierce its skin, but with the second stroke he killed it.^ 

While he was skinning the elk, a wolf approached, and asked, "Where 
do you camp?" "My camp is over there by the river." "Wait here, I 
will tell your people." Then he piled up the meat, and covered both the 
food and the man with a skin. The cover was heavy and when the wolf 
was gone the man tried to get out. He got himself covered with blood. 
When he got out at last, he had turned into the bird Wi\skedidi'n. 

45. The Loox and the Bald-Headed Eagle. 
A Bald-Headed Eagle was perched on a tree slanting towards a lake, 



' Cf. Lowie, p. 237 (Shoshone); G. A. Djrsey, (e), p. 271 (Wichita). 



1909.] Loicie, The Assinihoine. 203 

where a Loon was swimming around. Seeing the Eagle, the Loon askeil, 
"What are you sitting there for?" "I am just watching for something to 
kill." "You are never able to kill anything." "Why do you speak to me 
like this?" "You are a bird that is never able to kill anything, that is whv 
I am telling you so." "You are a miserable bird yourself, vet vou are 
abusing me." The Loon replied, "You are a poor one; if you wanted to 
catch me, you would never succeed." "You'll see whether I am not able to 
kill anything," said the Eagle, flying towards the Loon, who dived into the 
water. The Eagle flew directly above him, waiting to swoop down as soon 
as the Loon came up to breathe. When the Loon was exhausted, he tried 
to rise under some trees, but the Eagle was straight above him. At last, he 
dived undergroimd so as to reach another lake. But the Eagl(> followed and 
continued to hover above him. The Loon went to a third lake, antl after- 
wards to a fourth, but the Eagle still })ursued him. At last, the Eagle got 
angry, turned into Thunder and killed the Loon with a flash of lightning. 

46. The Wolverene and the W'olves.^ 

In the winter, four big wolves and a wolverene were staying on a hill. 
The Wolverene did not like the place, because it was too cold there. AMien- 
ever the wolves wanted fire, they piled U]) wood and jumped across. The 
Wolverene wanted to learn how to make fire. The wolves taught him, but 
said, "Don't play too much." The Wolverene tried the trick once, and 
succeeded. He liked it, went off some distance, and tried once more. He 
performed the trick several times as he went along. At last he came to a 
river covered with ice. The Wolverene got to a spot where the cover was 
thin and fell in. He got cold, so he piled up wood and wanted to make a 
fire. But he could not make one by jumi)ing now. He looked around for 
some flint, but could not find any. The wolves had stolen his flint. He 
chased them. At last he saw their fire from the toj) of a hill. One wolf 
said, "My friend, the Wolverene is coming." The Wolverene said. "I 
have lost my flint." The wolves replied, "We have not .seen it," but lie 
could see that they had it. The Wolverene was so cold that he had to walk 
up and down continually. The wolves said, "Sit in here, we will cover 
you with our blanket." When he got to them they covered him with their 
tails and began to break wind." "You are breaking wind, you are causing 
a foul odor." "No, we did not break wind; if you don't like it here, you 
can go to look for fire elsewhere." The Wolverene was very angry, but he 
staved with them all winter. 



1 Recorded by Mr. Skinner among the Cree. 

2 Cf. Grinnell, (c), p. 149 (Blackfoot^ 



204 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

47. Skunk.' 

Long ago Skunk was larger than a horse and was ahk' to kill anyone. 
He had slain many people and the survivors were fleeing from him. One 
old marten could not run fast enough, and ])retended to be dead at Skunk's 
approach. "I wonder how long he has been dead," said Skunk. He put 
his finger in his anus and smelt it. "He must have died to-day," he said, 
and went on. He met a wolverene, working by a beaver-dam. "What 
are you doing?" "I am trying to kill beaver; what are yon looking for?" 
Skunk said, "You are not telling me the truth." Wolverene said, "Let 
us smoke together." Skunk said, "I want to smoke alone." They got 
angry at each other. Skunk was about to kill Wolverene with his filth, but 
Wolverene went close, and closed his anus so that he could not void filth. 
As soon as P'ox saw this, he ran away and told the other people, "He cannot 
defecate." All ran towards Skunk, only Lynx lingered behind. "Where 
is Lynx? Tell him to join us in killing Skunk." Lynx came along slowly. 
He said, "Take him into the timber." There he climbed a tree, and, seizing 
Skunk with his legs while the others held him, he bit his neck through, 
killing him. They built a large fire and burnt up Skuid-c. There was lots 
of fat in his body. From the small spots on his corpse, there devel()])ed the 
skunks of to-day. That is why the skunks are small now. 

48. The Blind Dupe.- 

A man was living alone with his wife and child. 41ic other peoi)le were 
jealous of him, because he was the best hunter and always had the best skins. 
Suddenly he became blind. He taught his wife to shoot, and for a time she 
hunted every kind of game. Once she shot a buffalo, but pretended not to 
have caught any game. Then she left her husband. The blind man walked 
about crying. He became thirsty, and went to look for water. After 
groping about, he got to a lake. Here he sat down and cried. A mno'za 
(gull?) heard him and approached. "Where is your wife? At her lodge 
there is plenty of meat." The man begged to be cured of his blindness. 
The mno'za told him to dive three times in the lake. He dived, and after 
the third plunge he came out seeing as well as ever. He looked about for 
his wife until he found her. She had plenty of meat. He cut off her breasts, 
killing her, and fed the mno'za with them. Then he took his child and 

> Cf. Russell, p. 218 (Cree); Lowie, p. 270 (Shoshone). 

2 Cf. Petitot, p. 84 (Loucheux), p. 226 (Hare); Dor.sey and Kroeber, p. 286 (Arapaho); 
G. \. Dorsey, (c), p. 32 (Osage). 



1909.] Loicie, The Assinihoine. 205 

looked for his people. After a while he found them. He married a .second 
time, and lived in .seclusion with his wife. Once he went to fight against 
another tribe and was killed. His wife and child were captured. The 
captors ran away, but met a party of Stoneys, who were about to kill the 
woman, but spared her when she was heard speaking Stoney. Thus she 
rejoined her tribe. 



49. The False Comrade.^ 

Two youths were always staying together. One went on a visit. At a 
white man's house he got married. He went on horseback to hunt game 
with his double-barreled gun. A small iron dog accompanied him. Xear 
a clumi) of l)ushes he noticed two elk. He pursued them into the brush. 
By nightfall he had not caught up to them. He did not know where he was. 
He made a fire. Sutldenly an old woman appeared, warming herself b\- 
his fireplace. "My grandson, I am freezing. Do you go to sleep." 'I'hen 
he fell asleep. "Get up, my grandson," she said after a while, "vour feet 
are going to get burnt." He remained silent. She untied her medicine- 
bag, and with a stick she rubbed medicine on him. Then the youth, his 
dog, his gun, and all his other property were transformed into trees. 

After some time had elapsed, the enchanted youth's comrade said, "I 
am going to follow my comrade." He set out and reached the white man's 
house. His friend's wife came to meet him and mistook him for her husband. 
"Where is my comrade?" "It is your.self." "No, tell me where he is." 
"No, it is yourself, let us two go home and eat." She took him home, and 
he ate. She would not let him go, thinking he was her husband, but finally 
he escaped. 

He got to a place where he thought his friend might be. He .set down 
his iron dog, bidding it hunt for his lost friend. The dog searched a stable, 
then ran on, scented, and followed the tracks. Finally, they got to a place 
where two elk were lying. He thought, "This is perhaj)s the place, these 
two may have killed my friend, and I will kill them." He gave chase, 
following them into the brush. Suddenly it got dark. He built a fire. 
"Here I will sleep." Having unsaddled his horse, he covered himself up. 
Suddenly something was heard coming through the brush, and an old woman 
was standing by the fireplace, warming herself. The youth thought, "This. 
I presume, is the one that killed my friend." Then he said to her, "Grand- 
mother, sit down and warm yourself while 1 sleep." "Do so, my grand- 
child," she replied. He covered himself with a blanket, but pierced it, .so 



1 Ft. Belknap. Traii.slated from a text. 



206 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

that he was able to peep through a little hole. He pretended to sleep and 
began snoring. Suddenly she said, "Rise, grandchild, the sparks are going 
to fall on you." She said it repeatedly, yet he stirred not. Again she said, 
"Thev will burn you. grandson," but he continued to snore. Then she said, 
"I do not mean anything by what 1 say, but I am going to have some more 
trees." She untied her medicine-bag taking it from inside her dress. She 
rublx'd medicine on a stick and was going to touch the youth. He lay 
watching. Suddenly he rose and seized her by the wrist. "Yes, grand- 
mother, what are you alxnit to doY" he asked. "(), grandson, I am an 
object for commiseration, spare me. Yonder is your friend, and his dog, 
and all his property." Still he held her by the wrist. He untied her medi- 
cine bag; one medicine in it was for making suidight, the other for trans- 
forming peo])le, a third for restoring them. He touched her with the tran.s- 
forming medicine. Then she turned into a large, ugly tree with many 
limbs and bees' nests. The youth did not take the day-making charm, but 
took the other two. Then he touched his friend, and his friend's trans- 
formed horse and dog with the restorative medicine. He also touched a 
stranger, who stood up laughing, and other people. All assumed their 
natural shape once more. Then he spoke to them, saying, "Go wherever 
you have come from." Then they scattered in various directions. There 
were also white people among them. Only the w itch remained a tree. 

Then the two comrades walked homeward. The rescuer said to his 
friend, "Comrade, on my way I got to a white man's house, and a i)retty 
girl came out. I asked her, 'Where is my comrade?' and she said, 'It is 
yourself.'" When he had told the whole story, his friend was angry (from 
jealousy). "Go ahead, lead, comrade," he .said to his rescuer. The other 
man walked ahead without looking back. Then the jealous man shot him 
and abandoned him. He got to the white man's house. There he cjues- 
tioned the woman, and she told him what had really happened. W'hen he 
heard it, he returned to where he had left his friend. He found his corpse. 
With the life-medicine he touched it and restored him to life, but his comrade 
was offended and went straight to their camp to tell his story. Later the 
jealous man arrived there. His father said, "I have heard how you killed 
your partner and afterw'ards restored him. You have nothing more to 
seek here; be off!" The other youth was so a.shamed of his treatment at 
the hands of a comrade that he had already gone away from the camp. 

50. The W^\ka-^' Girl. 

Once an old woman was living with a girl whom she called "grand- 
daughter." They were very poor, their lodge was smoked black, and the 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 207 

tipi-cover was dotted with holes. They (Hd not even have enoiu'-h lodije- 
poles. The gh'l was very young; her hair was long, and she was very prettv, 
but she had to wear ragged clothes. They did not have enough to eat. 

In another lodge there lived a youth, whose parents were well-to-do. 
Many girls were eager to marry him and used to call him in the night, hut he 
declined to have anything to do with them. Once he said, "Father, tell 
my mother and sisters to look for some really poor girl that has no relatives. 
If you find such a one, I may marry her." They looked, but could not find 
such a girl. One day the youth was sitting on a hill. A creek was runnino- 
by. He watched the women coming to fetch water, but all of those he saw 
had relatives. At last, on the other side of the creek, near the end of the 
camp, he espied a little lodge, and saw the poor girl standing outside. lie 
walked in that direction, and sat down at some distance from the tent in 
order to examine the girl more closely. He saw her unbraided long black 
hair, and liked her api)earance. He thought she was the girl he was looking 
for. Returning home, he told his father that they had not done as he had 
requested. "I asked you to get me an orphan girl, but you did not find one. 
Now, I have found one myself." His father said they would bring the girl 
to their lodge, but the boy said he woidd get her himself. So he got calico 
and blue flannel, a i)air of beautiful beaded moccasins, some blankets, and a 
toilet-bag, as well as some clothes for the old woman. He wrapped up 
penmiican with the other gifts, walked to the lodge, and laid down every- 
thing outdoors. He built a fire, and bade the old woman get up. Then 
he said, " I also wish your granddaughter to rise. You have heard about me. 
All the women wish to marry me, but I will have nothing to do with them. 
I have discovered this girl, and if she takes me, I'll marry her." The girl 
was willing. She said to the old woman, "If I marry him, you too may get 
some help." The youth asked the girl to sit beside him. He combed her 
hair, and asked whether .she could sew. Then he took out his calico, meas- 
ured off enough for her clothes, and she began to sew them. She made a 
new dress, leggings and moccasins for herself. He handed her a belt, a 
necklace, lirass finger and earrings, and redolent .seeds for perfumery, and 
decorated her with ])aint. To the grandmother he gave some clothes anil 
the pemmican. All night they feasted on the food hv brought, and dressefl 
up. He remaincnl with them all night and the next day. 

The youth's parents were wondering where he had gone to. < )ne of tlu- 
women who had desired him for a husband had seen him enter the ugly 
lodge. She rushed in, and, scolding him for going to the poorest girl, said 
he would have done better to marry her. The orphan girl began to cry, 
but her betrothed l)ade the jealous woman be gone, and wiped away his 
bride's tears. The rejected woman returned and told every one in the camp 



208 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. I\', 

about the young man's marriage. His parents then packed up a travois, 
brought a lodge and its furnishings to their son, and requested him to set up 
house. He moved in with his young bride, and the other people gave a new 
lodge to the old grandmother. 

One day the girl said, "That woman is very eager to marry yon; you 
may marry her also." The man refused, being afraid the woman might 
kill her rival. But the girl replied, "Nothing can kill me, I am waka"'. 
You are the first one to be told about it. We shall let her do the house- 
keeping, for 1 don't know much about it yet. She can cook for us. After 
she has once moved in, she will not be able to get out. Some day, in the 
future, I shall lead the whole people. Our first child will be a boy, and he 
also will be a leader. All the peoi)ic will depend on us. I shall show the 
people how to get buffalo." As soon as the young man had married the 
older woman, the girl said to her, "You wished to marry him. We shall 
both be his wives; I am not going to be jealous. If you are willing to take 
care of the lodge, we shall get along; but if you maltreat me, you will not 
live long. I have something to support me, I am waka"', while you are not. 
As I am a woman, I shall let my husband do certain things. We three shall 
live together, if your parents agree." So the three lived together. 

The orphan girl asked her husband to get a crow for her. When he had 
brought one, she fleshed it, dried it, and stuffed it with grass. She bade her 
husband look whether any of the Indians had a calf skin. He found an 
old woman who kept one for storing berries in. When the young wife had 
secured it, she ordered the people to follow her soutliward where there was 
plenty of timber. She announced that she was going to corral buft'alo. 
Some of the peojjle followed her. When they had reached a certain spot, 
she halted and bade the men bring logs for a buffalo-drive. It was con- 
structed in one day. Then she ordered all the dogs to be tied up inside the 
lodges. She sent out a crow, which flew out tlirough the smoke-hole. Then 
she dressed up, putting on a flannel shawl with eagle-feathers, and started 
out with the calf-skin. From the top of a hill she saw a herd of buffalo 
appearing on a long ridge. She got ahead, so as to be able to enter the corral 
before the buffalo. Then she took oft' her flannel and waved it four times, • 
before putting it on again. Suddenly one buffalo took the lead and ran 
towards her, follc^wed by the rest of the herd. When they were close enough 
to hear her, she called them, then she stepped back. She called them three 
times. The fourth time she turned her calf-skin into a live calf, which ran 
to meet the buffalo. Then the calf suddenly veered about and ran towards 
the orphan, decoying all the buffalo into the corral.^ The orphan picked 

1 Calling the buffalo is called oxpa'jax. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 209 

up the calf and ran through the entrance which faced south. Followed by 
the herd, she climbed a lofty tree within the enclosure. She began to sing.^ 
The men watching her said, "The buffalo don't seem to be at all afraid." 
The men had been posted along the entrance. When she ceased to sing, 
she ordered several sharpshooters to shoot the buffalo. She had told the 
men to kill the entire herd if small, but to spare some if it was large. The 
old men selected as many of the fattest animals as the orphan girl desired, 
the remainder was divided among the people. Everything was taken out 
of the corral. 

The second time the orphan's husband called the butfalo, having received 
the power from his wife. He sent out the crow, then dressed as his wife 
had at the first calling, and went to the same hill. He stood there for a 
while, until the buffalo appeared. Then he waved his flannel four times, 
yelled and stepped back. Three times he did this, the fourth time he 
dropped the calf-skin as before, and it turned into a calf and decoyed the 
herd. He climbed up the tree, the buffalo circled around the corral, then 
stood still, and were shot by the people. Twice after this his wife gave him 
the power to call buffalo, then she gave him the power to lead in the butfalo- 
chase. 

He started out with a party of good hunters. They found buffalo along 
some coulees. He sat down, filled his pipe, pointed the stem towards the 
buffalo, and prayed, telling how he had received power from his wife and 
asking how many buffalo he was to kill. iVU smoked. He took his gun, 
faced the buffalo, sang, and shut his eyes. Then he said, "We are only 
allowed to kill twenty." Two drivers were sent out after the buffalo, and 
twenty were' killed. The man had the power to lead the chase on two other 
occasions. 

The young woman was now followed by four large bands. She ex- 
plained to them how she had dreamt the power to call buffalo. " I dreamt 
that if I married, I would be superior to my husband on account of my 
waka'^' powers. Xow I have plenty of people under me. To-day I feel 
proud. I can hear anyone at a good distance off. I can make any kind of 
wind in any direction at any time of either day or night. I will not say any 
more about my powers. From now on people can subsist on buffalo. 
People will not always live in the world. We can depend only on buffalo 
meat." 



1 In his description of a Cree pound, Franklin (1. c, p. 101) writes: " There was a tree in the 
centre of the pound, on which the Indians had hung strips of buffalo flesh and pieces of cloth 
as tributary or grateful otTerings to the Great Master of Life; and we were told that they occa- 
sionally place a man in the tree to sing to the presiding spirit as the buffaloes are advancing, 
who must keep his station until the whole that have entered are killed.^' 



210 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

51. The Bad Wife.^ 

There ^vas a large Indian camp. The chief had a married daugiiter. 
One day, when her husband returned home, his wife was gone. He in- 
formed his father-in-law, and asked all the people whether they had seen 
her or heard about her whereabouts. He invited many people and ques- 
tioned them, but no one knew anything about her. Three times he invited 
people to incjuire about his wife, "^i'he fourth time one visitor said that a 
stranger had stayed with him and had disaj)peared during his host's absence. 
Then they knew that the stranger had eloped with the chief's daughter. 
She had often told her husband, when they ([uarrelcd, that she would leave 
him to go north and would never return. 

The man packed up his belongings and set out northward. A day after 
he had started he killed a buffalo, and was going to cook it. A big wolf 
came and asked, "Where are you going ?" "I am looking for my lost wife." 
"If you feed me and take care of me, I'll go with you and help you find your 
wife." The young man agreed, and l)oth went on together. They walked 
until dusk. The next day they continued their journey. The wolf said, 
"x\s soon as we get to yonder high hill, I'll go on, and you will wait for me 
there." He waited all dav. The wolf got back late at night. "We have 
not very far to go," he reported, "but on the way, there are several bad 
places for you, though not for me." The man said, "I may get through, 
I have some holy grandmothers (female manitous). If I meet them, they 
will help me through the bad places." They continued walking until they 
were able to see a little lodge. The man said, "There is one of my grand- 
mothers, walk on, and wait for me ahead." The wolf obeyed. The man 
entered, and found his old grandmother sitting within. "Grandchild, 
what are you looking for?" When she heard his story, she said, "She was 
taken through here two days ago. It won't take you long to get there, Init 
I'll give you some things." She took out and handed him several pieces of 
dried mink-skin. "You will reach a large body of water. Put the mink- 
skins on your feet, and you will cross without difficulty. On your way you 
will get to your grandfather, and he may give you something else to help you 
along." After a while they got to another little lodge, where he found his 
grandfather, who supplied him with a bow and arrows. The wolf gave him 
a bunch of his hair. They reached the water. The wolf said, "I shall dig 
under the water and get across in that way. I'll wait for you." He went. 
The man tied the mink-skins to his feet and slid across the water as though 



1 Ft. Belknap. Cf. Grinnell, p. 39 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 120 (Gios Ventre); Dorsey 
and Kroeber, p. 262, (Arapaho). 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiyiihoine. 211 

it were ice. He had some dirt in a bag. As it was night before he got 
across, he dropped some of his mud, and it turned into an island, on which 
he slept. The next morning he rose and slid to the shore. He proceeded 
with the wolf until they reached another expanse of water. Both cros.sed in 
the same way as before. The wolf said, "On the other side of yonder big 
hill is the camp where your wife dwells. 1 am not sure that you will recover 
her, but })erhaps you may. Her present master is very waka"'. Every day 
people play a game against him, and he always wins; he wins people that 
are staked on the issue of the game." 

They entered the camp late at night. The man went to the smallest 
loclffe, bidding the wolf wait for him. The wolf said he would remain 
underground. While the man was attended by the old woman of the little 
lodge, someone called him. He asked what this meant. "You are wanted 
at the center of the camp-circle," someone replied. The old woman said, 
"That chief has four waka"' servants; if anyone enters his lodge, they know 
about it. They will put you to the test to-morrow. If you lose, you become 
a slave; if you win, you win half the people." "I will kill him and his 
guardians," said the young man. "If you do, all the people will be yours." 
"I am sure, I can kill him, or beat him at a waka'^' performance." 

The man went to the center lodge, where he found the chief, his former 
wife, and the four guardians. "What are you coming for? " I am seeking 
this woman." "]My waka"' guardians will do something. If you beat them, 
you can have your wife and kill me; if not, I will kill you. ^Sly men will be 
ready to-morrow." Next morning the people came to see the contest. 
There was a large bucket there. The chief said, "]My bucket, draw water." 
It rolled to the creek and fetched water. His servants built a big fire, the 
bucket set itself on the fire, and the water began to boil. One of the four 
helpers stripped, climbed into the bucket, and droi)})ed into the boiling water. 
After a while he got out again unscathed. "Now it is your turn." The 
young man stripped, climbed into the bucket, and stayed there longer than 
his predecessor. After a long time he peeped out and said, "Let some one 
make a bigger fire; if not, I'll come out." They broiight more firewood to 
heat the water. After some time the hero thought it was enough, the caldron 
burst in two, and he disappeared underground, emerging at some distance. 
Thus he won the first contest. The four helpers began to cry. Next, one 
of the four waka"' men picked up his gun and shot at an iron post, breakmg 
oft' a piece. The young man was asked to do the same. He took one of his 
blunt arrows, shot it, and broke the post in two. The arrow came whizzing 
back without ever touching the ground. Thus he won the second contest. 

He went to his lodge. The same man again summoned him to appear 
before the chief on the next dav. He went with the half of th(> tribe he had 



212 Anthropological Papers American Museum, of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

won, and bade them carry wood. Two of the chief's helpers built a bio; fire, 
heated rocks and iron, and threw the red-hot rocks into a pit. Then they 
got into the pit, while masses of hot iron and rocks were piled up around 
them and stood there for a long time. When the rocks cooled off, they got 
out and bade their opponent perform the same feat. All the rocks were 
heated red-hot, and the hero got into the i)it. The helpers were going to kill 
him with heavy weights thrown on his head, but he dived in head foremost. 
They thought he would perish from the heat, but he went imdergroimd again, 
and appeared at some distance on a liill, \vh(Mic(> he watched his opponents 
filling the excavation with rocks. Several times he returned to the pit, and 
escaped underground again. Suddenly he appeared in the chief's lodge. 
All the guardians cried, because they were beaten. I'he young man took 
his arrows and shot them at the four heli)ers, splitting each in two. The 
chief begged to be spared, but the man kiil(>(l iiim in the same way. He 
ordered a fire to be built, and had llic corpses burnt. Then he became chief 
of the tribe. He said that anyone so desiring might make a slave of his 
former wife. 'J'hen he l)ade the half-breed ("rees, to whose band the waka"' 
man had belonged, that they might keep their horses, ])igs and chickens, 
and continue to nndti])ly in that place, while he would take his ])C()])le home. 
They set out and reached the first big sea. The new chief took a iiandfid 
of dirt, tied on his mink-skins, and walked on the water. He sprinkled dirt 
as he walked along, it turned into land, and the ])eoi)le were able to follow 
him across. When all had reached the other shore, the land disa])j)eared 
again. They got to the second sea, and crossed it in the same way. After 
a while they got to the old man who had presented him with the bow and 
arrows. The people gathered many robes, and their chief presented them 
to the old man, telling him what had happened. The old man bade him go 
home. They traveled on and got to the old woman, who was also presented 
with gifts and was told of the hero's adventures. The next day they met the 
wolf sitting on a hill. He said, "Friend, I am going to leave you, from now 
on I shall no longer accompany you underground." The hero thanked him 
for his help, and asked to be allowed to visit his friend's home. First he 
went to his own lodge, and brought flannels and little bells. Then he 
re-joined the wolf. They went below a big rock and walked under the 
surface of the ground. There was a large hall inside. They found ten 
able-bodied young men, with plenty of bufl:"alo-meat and venison. These 
ten men were the wolf's sons, and an old wolf coui)le were his parents. The 
visitor tore up his flannel, fitted each piece around the neck of one of the 
wolves, and attached some bells. When he had distributed his gifts, he sat 
down. The wolf said, " I am very grateful to you, now all my children have 
the flannel and bells they desire." The old wolves also declared they were 



1909.] Louie, The Assiniboine. ' 213 

satisfied. The wolf said, " I have helped you to recover your wife, and have 
guided you. Henceforth I shall not be with you. I take awav the jxnver I 
have given you." The chief was satisfied. After having food served to him, 
he went above ground and walked back to the camp. 

When he had gotten back, he ordered the camp broken. They traveled 
initil sunset, and reached the chief's old home. All the people were sur- 
prised at the man's having won so many subjects. When his father- in-law 
heard he was coming, he resolved to butcher his daughter alive. All the 
])eople gathered fine articles and distributed them among the relatives of the 
deceived husband and of his false wife. The next day a post was set uj). 
The bad woftian was stripped, tied to the post, and a sinew was passed under 
her arms and across her breasts. Lower down, another sinew was attached. 
Her father approached her, holding a big knife. "You have given my 
son-in-law trouble. I have loved you and done for you what I could. ^Oui- 
husband never abused you. What do you mean by running away?" She 
did not answer. He seized her right hand and cut it off, then he cut oflF her 
left hand, her arms, her legs, and finally severed her head. He threw it 
down and kicked it. He had a pit dug, and the fragments of her body were 
thrown in. Then he sent a messenger to his son-in-law, offering him a 
younger daughter for a wife. Though she was very young, he thought her 
old enough to marry. The chief replied that she was still too small, but that 
he would wed her within a year. After a year, he accordingly married her. 



52. The Woman Stolen by the Bvffalo. 

An old man was living with his wife, his daughter and son-in-law. His 
seven sons dwelt apart. Once the young girl went for water and never 
returned. Her husband told his brothers-in-law, ami they all looked for her. 
They found that she had been kidna])ped by a buffalo. Her husband 
concealed himself where the buffal(j used to get their water. At sunset his 
wife came, and he caught her. "Come home," said the man, "anil we will 
stay with your brothers." The woman said she just wanted to go back for 
her bag. At first the man refused to let her go, but finally he consented. 
He waited for her to return, but she informed the buffalo her husband was in 
the brush, recpiesting them at the same time not to kill him. They cai)tured 
him and brought him to the camp. His buffalo rival strii)ped him naked 
and tied his hands and legs to a tree stump. His former wife made a fire 
and put the burning ashes on his flesh. She turned into a buffalo-cow. 
There was a big lake between the Indian and the buffalo camp. The 
buff'alo-woman went close to the Indian camp. She lured jM-ople to her own 



214 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Historij. [\'ol. R', 

camp, where all the buffalo would come out and kill them. C)iie day her 
former husband's brother came up to her camp and saw his brother tied to 
the tree. He went back and told his people. The man by this time was 
nearly burnt to death. The old buffalo allowed him to return home, but his 
wife wanted to keep him there. She asked his own father to let her have 
him back, and when he refused she killed ten Indians. The pi-ople cured 
him by greasing his scalds. Four times the buffalo woman tried to re- 
capture him, but failed. She killed peojile with her horns or her excrements. 
The Indians would slip when treading on her excrements and get killed. 

The old father bade his son make a bow and arrows. For the feathers 
he used those of the ie'mhin. Then the man offered to race his former wife, 
each staking the lives of ten butt'alo or TiuHans, respectively. All the buifalo 
came to the Indian camp. The man tied an ie'mhin head to his own. 
They began to race around the lake. The buffalo woman defecated to 
make her opponent slij). She ran ahead for a time. Then he took his bow 
and arrows, shot one above his wife and ffew al)ove her as a bird, defec-ating 
on her back. He defeated her, and ten Ijuffalo were slain. When the buf- 
falo-woman arrived at the goal, her horns were of an orange color. The 
people told her that the buffalo had been killed. She replied, "We shall 
race again to-morrow. I wager twenty buffalo against twenty Indians." 
The next day they started before sunrise. The man won again in the same 
way, and twenty buff'alo were kill(Ml. Then the woman proposed to fight 
him in a trial of strength. Her husband knew that she was only vulnerable 
in her anus and neck. He made a hundred arrows, two of them with a 
bull's-eye (?) point. The woman said, "We will fight at noon." The 
Indian tied the bird's head to his own and took his arrows. He walkinl till 
he got close to a wood. .There he stood near his j^eople. The buffalo 
rushed at him, hooking everything in her way. When she got close, snorting, 
the man took his two bull's-eye arrows and shot them, but they merely 
glanced off' her skin and fell down. The woman now thought he was unable 
to hurt her. But he took one of his other arrows and shot it at her neck. 
It went clean through her body, and passed out at the anus. She leapt 
back. He shot a second arrow at her neck, and continued shooting in this 
way until he had discharged all his hundred arrows. The buffalo was killed 
in this way. Before dying, she said, "When I am dead, turn my feet towards 
the mountains." But instead, they turned them towards the plains, that is 
why there are plenty of buffalo in the plains. 

The man piled up wood and burnt her body. There was plenty of iron 
inside. He took none of it. A knife blade leapt out of the fire, and was 
taken by a child, who hid it under his clothes. The man had warned the 
boy against taking it, but he disobeyed and was killed bv it. Then the man 



r 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 215 

picked up all the iron and burnt it again. After this, the hutlalo no longer 
killed people. Then the man found one piece of bone and therefrom re- 
stored his wife to human form. He took her to his father-in-law, who had 
been continually bewailing the loss of his relatives. "It has been prettv 
hard for me to recover my wife. I was nearly killed l)y the ashes she |Hit 
on my neck." The old man said, "Do to her whatever you like." Hie 
man slit off her nose and threw it away. She cried. He then cut off her 
breasts and killed her. 



53. The Abducted Wife. 

The people were camping together. One man went into another man's 
lodge and stole his wife. The lovers stayed by a small creek. At first they 
were poor, but after a while they had a nice lodge and good clothes. They 
moved into the timber and })itched their lodge there. The woman was 
pregnant. After a while she gave birth to a child. When her husband 
was out hunting, she felt lonesome, so her husband looked for other people 
and brought home her brother, who thenceforth lived with her. One day 
the man had brought home some game. His wife had no water in the lodge 
and went out to fetch some. In the darkness she mistook the road, and 
while dipping in her pail she was caught by something that })ulled her be- 
neath the water. She screamed, and her husband and brother ran uj), but 
failed to find her. 

The man packed the baby, and moved to the river, llie baby was 
crying incessantly. The husband climbed a hill to look for his kidnapped 
wife, but found no trace of her. One day the brother called his sister, 
"Your baby is lonesome, come out." He sat down by the water. Some- 
thing came up and walked on the waves. At first he was scared, then he 
recognized his sister. "I will nurse my boy, don't throw him in the water, 
I'll come close." "I am glad to see you," said the boy, "I will tell my 
brother-in-law, we'll get you back." She told him she was human oidy 
down to her waist. After nursing the babe, she returned to the water, 
and her brother noticed that she had a beaver-tail. H(> told her husband, 
and they moved close to the ])lace where she had appeared. The woman's 
father came there and proposed that they should catch the beaver and seize 
the woman. They dried up the water at the dam antl found the beaver- 
houses. They watched the entrance. They tried to force the door. "If 
you see beavers," said the old man, "catch them." They broke in the door 
with an axe and found plenty of beavers surrounding the woman. The 
woman said, "This beaver wants me onlv for one more vear. During that 



216 Anihropoloyical Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV', 

time he will instruct me." But the people did not listen to her. They tied 
a rope around her body and dragged her out. For two nights they con- 
tinued to watch her. She nursed her child, but kept the lower part of her 
body covered before the people. On the third night they loosened her 
bonds. She did not eat anything but willow-leav(\s. "When not watched, 
she swam off to an island. The people followed her, but she turned into a 
bear. They ran away. As a bear, she had two cubs. She then returnetl 
to her husband's lodge with bear's paws and a beaver tail. "I am having 
a hard time," she declared; "I am partly iiuiiian, partly a beaver, partly a 
bear." Her father said, "You talk like an Indian, so you are an Indian." 
Her cubs ran off. She felt lonesome and followed them. At last, she 
returned to cam]) and hanged herself on accoiuit of her tripartite body. 
Her husband thus addressed the corpse: "I married you first, but you were 
bad and ran away." He cut up her body, threw the slices away, and said, 
"If you want to go to a bear, you may go; if you wish to go to a beaver, you 
may go." 

54. The Reformed Adulteress.' 

A man was living with his wife. One day he was looking for game. 
When he returned, his wife was gone. At first he thought she might have 
gone for wood, but he could not find a trace of her. He returned, wondering 
where she had gone. A crow came flying and continued to circle around 
above him. "What are you flying around for? I'll kill you." "If you 
talk to me that way, I won't tell you where your wife is." The man then 
promised him whatever food he wished, and also flannel and bells to wear 
around his neck. The crow said, "Go to that creek. It will be dark by 
the time you get there. Travel all the next day till you get to a camp. 
Your wife is there; a young man from that band has stolen her. Wait till 
it gets dark. I'll be there to show you where to go." 

When the young man had reached the camp indicated, the crow came 
and told him where his wife was. After dark the man peeped into her 
lodge and saw her there, then he stepped back. When all the people were 
asleep, he painted himself so as to become irrecognizable, crawled to the 
lodge, and listened. They were sleeping, and his former wife was lying next 
to the wall. He pulled up the pegs, raised the cover, and awakened her. 
She turned her head and asked, "Who are you?" The crow had told him 
to answer, "I am the man that spoke to you in the brush to-day." "What 
do you want?" "I want to elope with you to-night." She picked up her 

1 Ft. Belknap 



1909.] Lowie, The Assinibnine. 217 

property and crawled out. Follo\vin<i' the crow's directions, he (hd not 
speak to her for some time. He walked ahead, assumino; a (Htt'erent gait 
from his customary one. She followed him until daylight, when she recoir- 
nized him. She was very sorry. He abused her all the way home. ^Vhen- 
ever he now went out hunting, he asked the crow to watch her, so she could 
not run off. He once killed a Ijuft'alo, dressed it, and butchered it. Then 
he asked the crow to invite all his friends to the feast. The crow did so, 
and they ate up the meat. The crow's favorite ])iece was the head, the other 
birds ate the rest. The crow came back, thanked the man, and off(>re(l to 
continue watching his wife. One day the crow told him, "The man who 
stole your wife before is sneaking around again." The man watched for his 
rival then. One day the crow was tired and wanted to fly about, so he said 
to the husband, " Climl) up to the top of a tree with the woman, tie her hands 
and feet to the trunk, and cut off all the limbs so your rival cannot climb up." 
xVccordingly, he left his wife on the tree. Before leaving, he said to the crow, 
"Go wherever you wish, but whenever you get to a high tree look back to 
see whether she is still there." ^Yhile he was gone, her lover came, but he 
was not able to climb the tree. The man returned and got a travois. He 
said to the crow, "Let us take her down and let her cook. Take the ro]»(' u\> 
there and put it over her head, then peck off her bonds." To the woman 
he said, "Tie the end of the rope to that tree." When the crow had released 
her, she climbed down the rope. The man said to her, "The next time 
I'll put you up the same way. If you don't behave properly, I will not kill 
you directly, but I'll chop down the tree so that it will kill you." 'Ihe 
woman was scared. She hardly ever moved from the camp now. One day 
her husband took her to a hill, rolled a l)ig rock on a buffalo robe, wraj)ped 
it up in the robe, tied it with rope, and tied the woman's ankle to it. When 
he was through, he rolled the rock down hill, and she was ol)liged to run 
after it till it stopped. Then he took her home. She ])roniised that if he 
stopped his cruel treatment she would behave as she ought to; saying that 
if she did not do so, he should kill her. Then he promised to stop his mal- 
treatment of her. She lived like a good woman thereafter, and they were 
happy together. The man then told the crow he coukl go away. 

55. The Game-Thief. 

An old man was living with his son-in-law. Every day liic young man 
went out hunting, but could not get any game. One day he saw a man 
skinning a big moose. He felt ashamed. The successful hunter covered 
his meat with willow-leaves and went home. The young man stole the 



218 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

meat and carried it to the other side of the hilL He traced a moose-track 
with one of the legs. When he brought the meat home, his fatlier-in-law 
rejoiced. "Where did you kill it?" "Over there, by the spring." The 
old man moved to where the meat was and began to roast it, while the 
women were dressing the skin. The owner of the meat appeared with his 
wives and claimed the property. The old man was ashamed of his son-in- 
law. The hunter said, "I just want the skin, you may keep the meat. In 
our camp there is plenty of meat, our people are not hungry." He went 
away. In the evening the young man rctiumed with some game he had 
really killed. "Where did you steal this meat again?" The young man 
asked, "What did I ever steal before?" "Yesterday you stole the other 
man's moose. To-day he claimed it. He only wants the skin, you may 
have the meat. Where did you steal this game?" The yovmg man pro- 
tested that he had killed it himself. The old man looked for the tracks, 
then he believed him. Thereafter the yoimg man was a good hunter. 

56. The ^Meeting ix a Cave.^ 

A Blood Indian was traveling alone. In the night he stopped in a 
cave. A Kootenay was also traveling all by himself. He went into the 
same cave, not knowing that anyone was inside. He found tlie Blood 
there. Both remained within until daylight. Then they caught hold of 
each other's arms and passed outside. Not understanding each other's 
language, they communicated by means of signs and thus discovered to 
what tribe each belonged. They spread a blanket, smoked, and agreed to 
stay together as comrades. A long while afterwards, the Kootenay said, 
"I should like to return home, l)ut let us first have a wrestling-match." 
They bet their property against each other. The Blood threw the Koote- 
nay and won the stakes. Then the Kootenay wagered his scalj) against 
the lost property, threw his comrade, and won everything back. Then the 
Blood staked his scalp. The Kootenay won again, tied a string around 
the Blood's scalp, and cut it off. Next they wagered their lives. The 
Kootenay won again, killed the Blood, and went back to his home across 
the mountains. 

57. The Gambling Contests.- 

The people were living together in a camp circle. The chief had two 
sons, the older of Avhom cared very much for the fox-dance. One day 



1 Cf. Grinnell, (c), p. 63, and Wissler and Duvall, p. 132 (Blackfoot). 

2 Ft. Belknap. 



190'.).] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 210 

the fox dance was to be performed, and all the niemhers prepared for k 
in their dance lodge. They went around the circumference of the camp. 
The younger brother thought he would take hi.s older brother's horse and 
watch. He did so, and followed the dancers. When his l)rother saw him, 
he pushed him off the horse, saying that he did not wish anyone but him- 
self to ride it. The young man walked home, picked up some moccasins 
made for his older brother, and sneaked away, being ashamed of what had 
happened. His father asked the people to search for him, but he could 
not be found. 

The first night the young man slept out on the prairie. The next dav 
he traveled on. Towards evening, he reached a small herd of buffalo. 
He said, "I am going around to see whether I can hit one of these buffalo 
with an arrow." He got ahead of them, and Avhen close to the buffalo he 
shot one, hitting him in the side so that the arrow stuck in it. The bufl'alo 
staggered and fell. The man picked uj) his robe and approached the dead 
animal. It had been hit by another marksman on the other side. FawIi 
man butchered half of the animal, then they built a fire of buft'alo-ciiips. 
The other man's name was Crow. They cooked their foocL Crow brought 
his share to the young man, saying, "Friend, eat what I have cooked." 
The young man reciprocated. They ate. Crow went west, without wait- 
ing for the voune; man, who followed after him. In the evening, thev 
found the same herd ahead of them. The boy sneaked uj) and killed one 
buflfalo; as he was going up to butcher it, he found that it had also been 
shot by Crow from the other side. Again they built a fire and cooked. 
Crow waited on the boy, then the latter reciprocated, as l)efore. ^^'hen 
they had eaten. Crow departed. The next day the boy traveled on. Late 
in the evening he reached a small herd. Sneaking up, he shot an arrow 
at one of the buffalo. Going to butcher it, he again found Crow's arrow 
sticking in the other side. They cooked and exchanged their shares again, 
then they ate without speaking to each other. Crow departed. The next 
day the boy continued his journey. In the evening he got to a small herd 
of buffalo. He killed one, which had also been shot by Ci-ow. 'I'hey 
cooked, exchanged their shares, and ate, then Crow left. The next morn- 
ing the boy continued traveling. Aljout noon he saw a man approaching, 
so he sat down. Crow sat down in front of him. "To-morrow noon," 
said Crow, "we will play a game, but before that wc will smoke." He 
filled a black pipe and ofl'ered it to the boy. The boy took out his red pipe, 
filled it, and handed it to Crow. Both smoked, exchanging i)ii)es from 
time to time. Crow said, "Do you understand what I told you? To- 
morrow we are going to play a game." The boy agreed. Crow went off. 
The boy slept. 



220 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xatiiral History. [Vol. IV, 

Early the next day Crow came and said, "To-day we will play a jjairie." 
Thev were near a rock. Crow nntied a bundle, containing a netted wheel 
and two darts. He gave one stick to the boy, and said, "When I roll this 
wheel, it will be your turn to throw." Each wagered some of his clothes. 
The boy hit the net, Crow missed. They walked back. Crow rolled the 
hoop again. 'Ilie boy hit it. Crow missed again. Crow rolled it again 
The boy hit it. Crow missed. Crow said, "If you hit it again, you win 
the first game." They threw the darts again; Crow missed, while the 
boy hit the net and won the first game. Crow bet again. "It will now be 
my turn to throw first." The boy rolled the hooj), Crow hit the net, and 
the boy missed. Eour times Crow hit the net, and the boy misscMl. Thus 
Crow retrieved what he had lost. The boy now staked all his belongings 
except his clout on the next game. Crow said, "This will be the last of 
our games. If you win, you get all my clothes, ^\v will do more, we 
will wager our scalps." '^I'he boy took the hoop and rolled it. Crow hit 
it, and the boy missed. Crow won four times in succession. "I have 
l)eaten you," said Crow, and scalped the boy. Then he said, "I don't 
want to see you go bare-headed, I will cover you with a buH'alo robe." 
And he covered him with a robe. "What will you do now?" he asked. 
"Eight days from now I shall bring more stakes to wager against you. 
My father is a big chief, and I have many relatives." Crow said, "The 
first one to get here shall j)lant a stick in the ground." They separated. 

The boy (juickly traveled homewards. It had taken him five days and 
four nights to reach the gambling site, but he made the return trip so as 
to get home on the fourth evening. Instead of going to his father, he went 
to another chief, who was sitting with bowed head before the fire. The 
chief said, "Old woman, rise, a visitor has come." She stirred the fire. 
"Who are you, stranger?" "I am So-and-so's lost son." The chief raised 
him and kissed him. He told the boy that everyone had sought him in 
vain and that he himself had vowed to adopt him as a son if he were found, 
not having any children of his own. They arranged his bed, and gave him 
fine clothes to wear. The boy said, "Father, I have come to get people 
to accompany me to a place where I was beaten in a game. I should like 
your band to go there." The crier was summoned to herald the news. 
All traveled to the gambling site. On the fourth morning, the boy said, 
"I'll go ahead to yonder big rock." He dressed up, took a stick that 
was painted red, and with his tobacco pouch and pipe he rode up to the 
rock. At a short distance, he saw^ Crow approaching from the other side 
with the boy's scalp suspended from a pole. The boy arrived first and 
planted his stick. When Crow got there, he put his stick next to the boy's. 
The boy filled his pipe, and they smoked each other's pipes. Both Crowd's 



1909.] Louie, The Assiniboine. 221 

and the boy's followers camped near-bv. The two opponents went to their 
respective bands. The boy said to his father, "1 shonld like to have a couple 
of women." The chief appointed an old man to get two of the prettiest 
girls. The boy was satisfied with them. "I want ten women that have 
never been married." The women were called. " I want eight voung men ." 
The eight young men came. "Now I want some one to ride a race-horse 
for me." A herd of horses was around the chief's camp. The bov said, 
"If anyone wishes to ride for me, I will fill my pipe for him and give him a 
bucketful of food. After the race is over, he may marry the ten women and 
I will give him ten horses from this herd." He passed the j^ipe to the young 
men present, but none accepteil it. He then asked his father to send for 
more young men. Again he filled and passed the pipe, but the young men 
went out without smoking. Then he had the young boys summoned. He 
passed the pipe, making the same offer as before, but no one accepted it. 

At last, a poor boy living with his grandmother rode up on his cripjded 
horse and inquired why the jiipe was being passed. When he heard the 
reason, he accepted the pipe and smoked it. All those within the lodge 
raised their hands (as a token of their gratitude). The jjoor boy ate the 
berries set before him. He had a wooden whistle suspended from his neck 
by a buckskin string painted red. His hair was unkempt and lousy. The 
chief's son had the boy combed, then every one went to the race-groun<l. 
From the other side, Crow and his people were approaching. The chief's 
son said, "I will choose my game, we shall have a horse-race." Crow 
selected a rider. The boy said, "We will just run once. I bet everything 
belonging to me; if you win, you can strip me naked and drive me away." 
Crow accepted these terms. The riders started. There was a long ridge 
there leading to a cut-bank; ropes were stretched at the bank to prevent the 
horsemen from tinnbling down. They started. The orj)han was in the 
rear. Suddenly he got ahead. He took his whistle, blew it, turned into a 
hawk, and, clinging to his horse's mane, leapt over the rope and descended 
with ease. Crow's rider turned back when he reached the bank. The hoy 
won. All Crow's people cried. The boy approached Crow and spread a 
blanket. "Give me my scalp first." Taking out his knife, he scalped 
Crow. Then he had all the property belonging to Crow's people taken away 
and put in his camp. Crow's people were put into an enclosure and ordered 
to strip. They were told to walk away naked. All of them were crying. 
All the clothes were laid in a i)ile. The boy bade Crow wait a while. He 
called his people together; to his horseman he gave ten horses and two of the 
largest lodges. He asked him what else he wanted, and granted all his 
wishes. He gave the orphan sixty horses. He divided the stallions among 
his relatives and save the mares and colts to the old women and children. 



222 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Historij. [Vol. IV, 

He divided all his property among the people. He had forty horses brought, 
and also some game. Taking pity on Crow, he told him he could take these 
things along. "You won the first contest, I have won the second contest. 
If vou wish to wager your people, I am willing to play you again." C^row 
declined, and moved away with his peo])le. The victor's older brother, 
hearing of his success, came with the horse from which he had pushed the 
boy and offered it to him. "No, I don't want it, you have thrown me down. 
You loved your horse better than me." 

The camp was broken. The next day they set out to chase buffalo. 
All started. The chief's son saddled up, and went towards the buffalo. 
He saw his older brother chasing buffalo and knocked him down. "Never 
mind," he said to his people, "he threw me away, now I will throw him away. 
Let none help him." Everyone went home with the meat. The boy was 
the last to go home. For several days they dried meat and enjoyed them- 
selves dancing. They went home and pitched their camj). The boy's real 
and his adopted father were the head-chiefs. One day a young man came 
in and told the boy he was going to make a new kind of dance, but before 
.starting it he wanted to tell how he had obtained it. " ^'esterday I was out 
on the hills and lay down. Beyond the hill 1 heard a man and a woman 
singing. It sounded as if they were coming towards me. I walked towards 
them slowly, thinking it might be enemies. A male and a female prairie- 
dog were coming along. I greeted them, "Hau!" He answered, "Hau!" 
I asked where they were going. The male answered that he w^as coming to 
show^ people a new kind of dance. "I'll show you, follow me." I followed 
them into a big hole. There was a lodge inside with a smoke-hole. I saw 
ropes stretched across, and feathered dance-ornaments were hanging from 
them. The prairie-dog went to the next lodge, and lots of young men came 
in. The prairie-dog told them he was going to give a dance to the people. 
He had the young men singing several songs for him. He asked me whether 
I had learned them, then he bade me look at the buckskin strings and feather 
ornaments, and I looked at everything. The men put on the ornaments 
and danced. When they w^re through, he asked whether I could make a 
dance like it. One rule is always to camp in the same place (?). The 
prairie-dog then told me to go home and get up the dance. Accordingly, 
I came out and told you about it." IVIany young men were invited and were 
taught the new dance. They learned their songs, then they were told to 
bring their guns and arrows. Each man was delegated to kill such and such 
a bird or other animal. They separated and brought back hawks, crows, 
owls, gophers, prairie-dogs, badgers, and buffalo-hoofs. The skins were 
dried and tanned, cut in strips, and hung on ropes. The next day they 
began the dance. All the young men came to watch or to join in the per- 



1909.] ' Louie, The Assinibome. 223 

formance. "When thev were through dancing, the performers U)t)k oil' iheir 
apparel and gave it away. The master of ceremonies told them this was the 
Big Dog dance. Many people joined the society. 

After a long time a messenger came to the chief's son, asking him to visit 
Crow. Crow said, "I have been prosperous and as well off as ever. We 
must not gamble any more, but we must scalp as long as peoj)le live. That 
is what I wanted to tell vou." Thus warfare originated.^ 



58. Lesbian Love.- 

A man was living with his wife and sister. The woman wished to have 
intercourse with the girl. AVhile her husband was hunting, she eloped with 
her sister-in-law. The man did not know where they could have gone. He 
looked for them in the camp, and finally concluded that they had been killed. 
He grieved very much over their death. In midwinter, he once went out 
hunting. Rememl)ering the two Avomen, he began to cry. He thought 
they must have perished from the cold. He ascended a hill. There he 
heard a noise. He had no gun or knife, nevertheless he walked towards the 
sound. His wife and sister being dead, he also wished to die. Towards 
sunset he reached the ])lace where he had heard the noise, and caught sight 
of a human head. He recognized his sister, and immediately guessed that 
his wife was also there. Stepping nearer, he saw smoke rising from among 
the bushes and heard a child crying by the fireplace. He could hear the 
women talking. His wife was playing with the infant. He knew that she 
must have married his sister. He saw his sister nursing the child. Ap- 
proaching, he asked, "Which of you has seduced the other?" His sister 
answered, "Your wife persuaded me to elope with her." The infant was 
continually crying. It looked like a football; it had no bones in its body, 
because a woman had begotten it. The man killed the child, then he l)ade 
the women go home. When they Avere near the cam]), lie told his sister to 
AA'alk ahead. Then he killed his Avicked Avife Avith his knife. His sister ran 
to camp and told a man she met that her brother was slaying his wife, begging 
him to saA'e her. But before the stranger arrived, the husband had killed 
his Avife and scA-ered her limbs from the body. He did not kill his sister. 
Though the slain Avoman hatl manv relatives, none cared to avenge her death. 



1 The equivalence of gambling and fighting is the rlo.sing sentiment of a Blackfoot myth 
(Wissler and Duvall, p. 133). 

2 Cf. Jones, p. 151 (Fox). 



224 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

59. Equus Stuprator.^ 

A horse was carrving a heavy load of meat. As his mistress was leading 
him, efiuus naribus cum vulva ludere conatus est. The next day the camp 
was broken. When the man was gone, the stallion tried to possess the 
woman, and began to bite her shoulders. She tied him to a post, and ran 
towards a mud-hole. Tearing the rope, the horse followed her, losing his 
burden. The woman climbed a tree. The stallion went around it, dug 
up the earth, and caused the tree to fall. The woman jumped to another 
tree, but this was hkewise uprooted. The woman tried to hide among the 
fruits, but her pursuer laid her on a log and gratified his ])assion, thereby 
killing her. When her husband returned at night, he did not find his wife 
home, and went to seek her. He saw the stallion's, as well as liis wife's, 
footprints, and found his wife dead. After burying the corpse, he pursued 
the stallion and shot hira at sight. Returning to camp, he told his friends 
what had happened. 

60. C.\Nis Stupkator. 

A man killed a moose. His wife went to fetch it, and packed the meat 
on a dog. The tlog barked and refused to return. She waited for liim 
and finallv went back. When she got close to him, he commencetl to wag 
his tail and looked into her eyes. The woman said, "If you will not walk, 
I '11 kill you on the spot." The dog rose and embraced her with his legs, 
throwing her down. She tried to get away, but he prevented her. "I 
shall kill you, unless you let me do as I wish." Then he satisfied his lust. 
The woman was ashamed and did not want to go back to camp. Her 
husband went to look for her, and found the meat on the ground. For a 
long time the dog and the woman could not be found. At last, some other 
people found them. The woman had given V)irth to seven pups. Her 
husband killed the dog when the woman told him what had hapj)ened. 
He informed the rest of the people. 

61. Lignum Mextulae Vice Fungens. 

A hunter heard someone laughing. Prope risores cum advenisset, duas 
mulieres conspexit (juae ridentes ligno pro mentula utebantur. The 
women caught sight of the man and broke the piece of wood ita ut utrius — 

' Of. Wissler and Duvall, p. 152 (Blackfoot); Lowie. p. 294 (Shoshone); Kroeber, (e), 
p. 114 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 247 (Arapaho). 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 225 

que earum vulvae dimidiuiu haereret. Then they went home, but found 
that they could not urinate. The man also went home. He was informed 
by his grandmother that two women were nearly dead. He offered to 
doctor them. ^Yhen his grandmother told the women, they promised him 
a liberal compensation. The man took eight porcupine (juills, made a 
small bow and arrows, and tied the quills to the arrows. Then he bade 
the old woman erect a tent in a secluded spot. There he i)laced his ])a- 
tients. Four times he raised their legs, then he shot an arrow into each 
of the split pieces of wood and extracted them. The women paid him a 
handsome fee. 

62. The Two Huxters.I 

^ Two men were traveling together. They were starving, so that they 
could hardly walk. Only one of them had a gun, and he had but a single 
cartridge. They caught sight of a buffalo. "I'll shoot." "No, I'll 
shoot first." The man with the gun crawled along, followed by his com- 
panion. Just as the man in front was pulling the trigger, his comrade 
thrust his moistened finger into the shooter's anus. The shot went wide 
of the mark, and the man in the rear laughed aloud. The other man would 
have shot him, but he had no more cartridges. ;^ 

63. The Goose and her Lover. 

All the people were on the warpath. One man was always lagging 
behind to embrace a large white goose. When the tents were pitched on 
a hill, the man lived with his people. The goose came to the camp to look 
for her lover. When she found him, she seated herself beside him. He 
fled, but she pursued him. He ran towards the brush, but she continued 
hovering above him. At last, he offered her some of his property, and 
she then let him alone. 

64. ]\Iextula Loquexs. 

The people were starving. They were looking for buffalo. A young 
man went on a hill to look out for them. He urinated towards the buffalo. 
Tunc penem erectum hoc modo allocutus: "Videsne boves?" To this it 
replied, "Yes, I see them," and continued repeating these words without 
stop. It was the young man's wedding night, and he felt very muc-h 
ashamed. He walked about, trying to stop the noise with his hands. He 



226 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Hidonj. [Vol. IV, 

failed to do so. A man tried to help him, but in vain. ^Nlentula seni])er 
eadem verba iterabat. A friend wanted to take him home, but the young- 
man was too much ashamed. Not even a man noted for his dreams could 
do anything for him. At last, a young man said, "Your mother-in-law- 
must hold it in her hands." The hero said he would sooner die than resort 
to this remedy, but at last he yielded. His head was covered with a robe, 
his mother-in-law seized it, and it stopped talking. 

65. The Punished Lover's Revenge. 

There was an Indian who had many wives. A young man once came 
in at night and ravished one of them. When he wished to depart, she 
held him, crying for help. Her husband and the other women awoke and 
seized the intruder. The husband said to the woman, "Ad viri nares 
vulvam team attere." She obeyed. Tunc mentulam ita ligaverunt ut 
mingere non posset. They also tied his arms, antl then let him go. He 
went to the top of a hill, and stayed there for several days. His member 
gradually swelled to the size of a horse's head. Four Indian horsemen 
who saw him were so amused at the sight that they fell from horseback. 
The other people thought they had been killed by the man and pursued 
him. When they saw him, all began to laugh. They called him Big- 
Laugh-Maker. The young man was so ashamed that he spoke to no one. 
At last, his brother relieved him. Both the young man and his brother 
were very angry. The old husl)and was out hunting once, and the woman 
who had been ravished was lagging behind the rest of the party. The 
punished lover followed her with his friends. He went ahead of them. 
When the woman saw him, she declared that she was glad to see him. 
Then he ravished her. He called all his friends, and each of them satisfied 
his passion. Post coitum ad omnes corporis partes mentulas attriverunt. 
Then they were even with her. 

66. Big-FroCx. 

Long ago, there lived a crazy old man named Big-Frog, who used to ])lay 
tricks on all the other Indians. Half of the Indians were going in one 
direction, and the remainder in the opposite direction. Big-Frog hid his 
two sons at the parting of the roads and killed his son-in-law. He said to 
his son, "Some one has slain my son-in-law." Another man seized the 
dead man's headdress and Frog went after him and his people. He slew 
his brother-in-law, though his sister begged him to spare her husband's 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 227 

life. Then she asked the other people to kill Frog. One man, named 
Buffalo, seeing his brother killed, approached Frog. "You bad man, vou 
have slain my brother." Frog rei)lied, "I fear no one, he slew my son-in- 
law." Buffalo proposed to fight in the plain. Then he shot off arrows, 
killing Frog's sons. Frog pretended to have been killed himself. Two 
boys passed his supposed corj^se. One of them said, "Aha! that is the way 
you ought to lie dead in the road." He struck an arrow into Frog's eve, 
and, seeing it move, he said, "I think he is not dead yet." The l)<)ys went 
to tell Buffalo. Buffalo said, "He is a tricky old man, perhaps he is merely 
counterfeiting death." As soon as Buffalo approached. Frog ran away, 
and his wife stealthily seized an ax to kill Buffalo. She approached Buffalo, 
saying, "Kiss me, I love you." But Buffalo was not deceived, and when 
she approached he killed her. All of Frog's friends were slain. Some old 
people are still living who witnessed this. Before this happened, the Frog 
and the Buff'alo people were wont to camp together. 

67. The Badger. 

The badger is the strongest of the animals. Two comrades^ saw a 
badger making a hole in the ground. One of them caught it by both its 
feet and tried to pull it out, but was too weak. Then both men tried to- 
gether, and failed. One man then released his hold, but the other, holding 
the badger's feet, stuck his arm in deep. The badger caught his hand, and 
the youth could not get away all night. All the Indians came to help him. 
The next day, at sunset, the badger let him go. 

68. A Hunting Adventure. 

Two men were traveling together. One had killed a buffalo. They 
returned to the spot at sunset, pitched a tent, prepared pemmican, and threw 
small slices of meat outside. One man heard a noise outside. "Some- 
thing is eating outside." Both seized their guns, and crawled out by the 
back of the tipi. They saw it was a bear, and fled. The bear ran and 
killed one man, the other fled back to camp. 

69. The Horse-Thief. 

A man was traveling by himself. He saw an old camp-site. He tracked 
the people. He saw one person riding by on horseback. Seeing it was a 

1 Said to be identical with the heroes of "Sharpened- Leg," p. 186. 



228 Anthropoloyical Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. I\', 

woman, he frightened the horse. She fell off, and he seized both her and 
the horse. Then he took them to a hill and sat down. At snndown he saw 
another horse. Tying up the first horse in the brush, he ordered the woman 
to remain where she was. He soared the second horse, which dropped its 
rider, the woman's husband. Thus the man got a wife and two horses, 
which he took home. 

70. The White Buffalo. 

INIany Stoneys were on the plains in search of buffalo. Only one old 
man remained at horiie. One of the buffalo signaled with a mirror that he 
was going to kill the old man. He ran straight towards the camp. The dogs 
pursued him, but he reached the camp. The old man took his gun and 
approached the bull. The woiuen all shouted, "Shoot him from afar, or 
he'll kill you!" He shot at, but apjiarently missed the l)ull. 'Hien the 
buffalo came slowly towards him, suddenly beginning to run. The man 
fled, but was hooked and thrown up into the air several times. The third 
time the women spectators saw the blood pouring from hi,'? body. The 
fourth time they saw his body and heart torn to i)ieces. Still the buffalo 
continued hooking him. At last he walked off. But the shot had not gone 
wide of its mark, and soon he fell dead. It was a white buffalo. The 
women took the man's flesh home and piled it up in a liea]). 

71. The Four Trappers. 

Four men were traveling about to set beaver-traps. Three of them 
we e successful, but the fourth did not catch any beaver. He got angry and 
defecated into the others' traps. But one trap closed on him, cut off his 
testicles, and killed him. The other trappers went off. One of them went 
to a wood, where there were many "bull-dogs" (flies). He defecated into 
their nest, and they bit his rump and scrotum. He could not ward them 
off with his hands. He threw the excrements into the trees, and raised his 
hand to his mouth. When he got home, his body swelled up, and he died. 
The two remaining trappers walked in the wood. They heard a sound 
resembling that of snapping twigs and thought it was a moose. Instead, 
it was a large fish (sinde'wia^ga) jumping about among the dead logs and 
splitting them in two. The men were frightened and fled, but there was a 
wind blowing and the fish scented them. He roared like a mountain-lion 
and pursued them. They did not know what to do. They ran to Skunk, 
asking him to kill the fish, but he was related to the fish and killed the men. 
Then the fish ate them. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 229 

72. The Rivals. 

Two young men were camping together. They both desired a young 
girl in the camp. One of them said, " I want to go to her first." The other 
refused, but finally consented to let him go first. The man went in, but 
afterwards refused to let his comrade enter. The man outside got angry, 
seized a bull-dog flies' nest and approached the lodge. Ih^ threw the nest 
at the lovers' genitals. The flies bit the lovers, so that both jumped up and 
down with pain. The girl cried continually, and the other inmates of the 
lodge were also bitten, while the man outside held the door, so that no one 
could escape. At last, he released his hold, and fled. The girl could not 
walk at all, but had to be carried. Her lover also could hardly move. His 
rival waited for him. "What's the matter, why don't you walk?" The 
injured man did not answer. Again he asked him. Then both raised their 
guns and killed each other. 

73. TriE Bear and the Buffalo. 

An Indian going out hunting was crossing a ridge and looked down on a 
lake below. On the other side were three buffaloes lying down, while one 
of them was drinking water from the lake. Close by a big bear was walking 
in the brush. He saw the four buffaloes, and approached the one in the 
water, which began to paw the ground and raise its tail. The buffalo tried 
to hook the bear, but he seized its horns, pulled it into the water and drowned 
it. In the same way he killed two of the other buffaloes, leaving only the 
oldest bull. The surviving buffalo was furious. He bellowed, and shook 
the mud off his body. Walking along, he made a noise like that of a drum. 
The bear was frightened. He tried to run away, but the old bull hooked him 
repeatedly, so that his body never touched the earth until he was killed. 
Then thebull ran around wild. The Indian was frightened, ran home, and 
told the people what he had seen. 

74. Snow. 

A man was out hunting. In the night he did not come back. His 
wife thought at first he was staying with another woman. Then she dreamt 
that she was tracking him. His footsteps were very, very small. After a 
while, she found him wrestling with Wa (Snow). Wa was the stronger 
and killed the man. The woman took a sled and brought the corpse home, 
where she buried it in the trees. 



230 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. lY, 

75. The Offended Feet. 

A man was traveling by himself. He sat eating. He put grease on 
both his braids. Some people came to kill him. He talked to his feet. 
His feet were angry. "We won't help you," they said; "feel your hair." 
The man said, "That is all right. When I am dead, people use my hair 
in scalping me. No one uses you, except dogs." Then the feet ran as 
fast as possible, so he was not caught. The people did not find his tracks. 
When they saw them at last, they said, "These tracks look old, they can't 
belong to the man we are after." Thus he escaped. 

76. Two-Faces.^ 

A woman once gave birth to a child with one face in front and another 
behind. The one in the back did not speak. People stared at the child, 
so that it was ashamed and died without being sick. 

77. First Meeting with the Cree. 

Once nearly all the Stoneys were sick. The sick ones were put into 
one lodge; nearly all of them died. The dead were not buried, but left 
on the ground, and the camp was abandoned. A few people ran away; 
only an old couple and two boys not related to them remained there. They 
subsisted on whatever food they could get. In the summer, the old man 
tried to kill beavers and was assisted by the boys. But, after skinning 
the animals, the old woman gave the boys no food, so they nearly starved. 
The next day they were given just a little piece. After the middle of the 
summer, the boys traveled a little. The older boy had a knife. They 
killed birds for food. From time to time they returned to the old couple. 
The second time they stayed with them longer than before. In the fall 
they went traveling again. They saw many ducks and geese, and also 
heard the sound of laughing and singing. Going nearer, they struck a big 
lake, where they found the birds making the noise. The birds felt lone- 
some, because they were unable to find people. They began to fly around. 
Their chief said, "We'll give some food to these poor boys." They went 
close to the boys, and one of them fell right down at the boy's feet to be 
eaten by them. When they were through eating, they returned to the old 
couple. They slept there one night, then they traveled again. This time 



1 Anu"'kada'ha° inde*. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 231 

a white goose heard them and .supi)hed them with food us the other bird 
had done. They returned to the Stoney couple, but as they did not give 
them any food they went traveling again. They again went to th(> hird.s, 
and as they came nearer, they heard the sound of shooting. \\'a Iking in 
that direction, they found a horse's tracks, and going fiu-ther some butt'alo 
meat, which they cooked. Then they continued following the tracks and 
met a party of Cree making a butfalo-pen. The ('ree adopted them, and 
they did not return to the old couple. The old })eople ((uarreled about 
them. The man said, "You did not give them enough to eat, that is why 
they did not return." The woman said, "We will track them." Accord- 
ingly, they tracked them to the Cree camp. They asked for the boys, but 
the Cree answered, "You did not feed them well, we will keep the boys." 
This is how the Stoneys first met the Cree. 

78. First MeetiaXt with Whites. 

(a) 

Once I^ktu'mni was traveling about with many Indians. He struck 
the Saskatchewan river. There he killed five big moose-bucks, skinned 
them, and made a boat. He descended the river, passing some falls. After 
a while he got to the sea. He tied five canoes together, and continued 
traveling for eight days. He reached an island. There he met tlie first 
White people ever seen by the Indians. They traded with him, and he 
returned. Prior to this, the Indians only had Inickskin garments, now 
they had cloth garments. It was spring when I"ktu'nnii set out; when he 
returned it was fall. 

(b) 

A Stoney once went out hunting with his bow and arrows. He walked 
eastward and struck a river. There he met a White man carrying a gun 
slung across his shoulder. The Stoney was frightened by the stranger's 
beard, and ran away. The White man called after him, "Wait, don't 
run away." The Indian stopped, and the White man shook hands with 
him. The Indian tried to run away again. The White man saw the 
Stoney 's bow and arrows; he thought the Indian was poor and gave him 
his gun and powder. He invited the Indian home. They got to three 
other White men. The White man made a mark and tried to teach the 
Indian to shoot, but as soon as the Stoney heard the report of the gun he 
was terrified and ran away. The White man brought him back and showed 
him how to aim straight and how to pull the trigger. The Stoney. how- 
ever, ran away again when he heard the report. 



232 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

79. The Punitive Expedition. 

(«) 

Some people were camping in the winter. They had no feathers for 
their arrows. An old man told his three sons and son-in-law to try to get 
feathers from his brother, who lived in another camp. On their way, 
they saw lots of feathers in a place where geese had been killed. They 
picked them up. The youngest man looked around and saw a crane's 
head. He struck it with his bow, and it made a noise. He told his com- 
panions, "This crane's head is saying that we'll get into trouble. You 
can get all the feathers you want in the camj), l)ut tlon't touch a lame girl 
there, or you'll be killed." They all Hstened to what the crane was saying 
when he struck its head again. They then went to the camp. The three 
boys told their uncle that their father had sent them to get feathers. He 
gave them all he had. One of them, before going home, wanted to steal 
the lame woman. His brother-in-law warned him, "Don't touch the lame 
woman." Nevertheless, he abducted her. Tlu-y went homeward, pursued 
by their hosts. The lake was frozen; they caught up to them there. The 
oldest was killed first. The second had shot oft" all his arrows and asked 
his uncle for more arrows. "Yes, I'll give you a spear too." He threw 
the spear at him and killed him. The old man tried to kill the youth who 
had dreamt about the crane, but the spear would not pierce him. He said, 
"If I wanted to live, you could never kill me, but as my brothers are dead 
I also wish to be dead. Cut my little fingers, and I shall die." They cut 
his fingers, and thus killed him. 

The old man's son-in-law was the only one to return home. For a while 
he did not speak for grief. His father-in-law (juestioned him. At last he 
said, "I come back alone, all my brothers-in-law have been killed." The 
old man sent him to other bands with tobacco. All came to his camp. 
The bad old man ^ was camping elose by the lake. He was continually 
watching in all directions, except towards the lake. The people came in 
canoes, unobserved. It was a fine, calm day. At last the old man saw the 
water stirring. He was frightened and warned the people not to sleep that 
night. The son-in-law's father was in the camp to be attacked. The 
young man begged his companions to spare his father's life. They bade 
him tell his father to stay in the dog-house during the fight, but in the dark- 
ness he mistook the bad old man for his father and warned him instead. 
The bad old man did not tell any of his people, but hid in the dog-house. 

1 Apparently the slain men's uncle Is meant. 



1909.] Louie, The Assiniboine. 233 

The people attacked the camp and killed their enemies. 'J'he son-in-law 
killed more than any one else. His father was also killed. He went to the 
dog-house and said, "Come out." They pulled him out and found their 
enemy. The young man said, "Don't kill him directly, cut him up bit hy 
bit." So they severed limb after limb from his body. The young man was 
mourning his father's death. "If I see the one who killed him, I sliall do 
this to him," he said. Saying which, he slashed and killed himself with his 
knife.^ 

(b) 

A man was living with his six sons and a boy adopted from another tribe. 
He told his sons, "We have no feathers, you had better go and get some 
from my younger brother." His brother lived with another tribe. The boys 
set out. They crossed a big lake, from the niiddle of which they could see 
many lodges. They asked their uncle to get feathers for them, and he did. 
It was in the winter, and the tribe was moving camp. One man in the tribe 
had three wives and a great deal of mysterious power. One of the visitors 
wished to steal his youngest wife. The other boys warned him, but he 
seized the woman as she was carrying her husband's headdress. The other 
wives tried to hold her back, but could not, so they merely wrested away the 
headdress and told their husband when he came home. The old man was 
in a fury. He called on all his spirits to destroy the boys. They were 
paddling in the middle of the lake, and got stuck in it by the old man's 
magic. They asked the fastest among them, who wore a jack-rabbit tail, 
to run home and ask their father for help. They were shooting all their 
arrows against the enemy and were in need of more. At last, they had only 
their bow-spears left. The fast runner at first did not want to go, seeing 
that his brothers were being killed, but finally he ran off. The enemy shot 
at him, but he was not hurt. He ran for two days before he reached his 
father's camp. At first he would not speak at all. When his father begged 
him to speak, he at last announced his brothers' death antl told how it had 
come about. He also brought back the feathers. 

In the spring, the old man prepared a great deal of tobacco and sweet- 



1 The following fragmentary version was also told at Morley: A man was living with his 
six children and his son-in-law. He was making bows and arrows, but had no featiiers, so lie 
asked two of his sons to get them. They went to the gulls' camp. One gull had died, and his 
corpse was lying there. The younger boy took up the skull and sounded it. It said that the 
boys would steal gull women and would have to fight. They tracked the gulls. When they 
reached the camp, the chief asked, " You bad boys, why are you tracking us? " " We are hunting 
for feathers." The chief asked the birds to give their feathers to the boys, then he moved camp. 
The boys stayed in the camp of an old woman, who lived with her granddaughter. The old 
woman joined her people and told them the boys had stolen the girl. The gulls returned, killed 
the boys, and took back the woman. The father of the boys wanted to fight tiie gulls, but his 
people were afraid and let them alone. 



234 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Histonj. [\'ol. IV, 

grass then he sent his son and his son-in-law to look for people. They 
visited six different bands, inviting each to join them in their war-exjiedition. 
The warriors from the six bands all gathered together, then the yoimg man 
sent a messenger to bid his father join them. At noon, they all set out to 
avenge the murder of the five boys. They got to a big river, which they 
crossed in two hundred canoes. One of the enemies had a wild dog, which 
was generally tethered. When the surviving son saw him, he said, "That 
dog belongs to the murderer of my brothers." The owner of the dog did not 
feed him well in order to keep him wild. The boys' father also had a fight- 
ing dog. The enemy retreated to the woods. The attacking party landed 
and tied up their canoes. The adoj^ted l)oy had l)een born among the 
enemy; he sought his real father and told him they were going to fight. 
His father asked him, whether he had a wife, and he said he had, though 
this was not true. Some of the enemy did not believe him. The owner of 
the dog released his animal. The boy gave him plenty to eat to render 
him less savage. Returning to his own side, he said, "We had better turn 
back, those people have a wild dog." The people got scared and turned 
back. Cro.ssing the river, there was a violent gale. One man was fright- 
ened, thinking they were going to be ca])sized. Then the old man counseled 
them to land again. They returned to shore, tied up their knives, and got 
ready to fight. In the night, when all the enemy were asleep, they approached 
quietly, tore the lodges down, and killed a great number of the sleepers. 
The owner of the dog was roused by the noise and released his dog, which 
killed many of the assailants. They could not kill him either with knives 
or arrows, so half of them fled. The adopted boy, finding his father slain, 
committed suicide. Two of the people were hiding in a canoe. The dog 
scented and killed them, and ate them up. One man hid in the dog's house, 
where the dog did not find him. One of the assailants paddled along the 
shore to catch up to his retreating friends, bidding them wait for him. But 
they took him for an enemy. The runner cried, "That's the man that 
killed my brothers," so they killed him. 

80. War Tales. 

Long ago the Stoneys were camping near the Saskatchewan. Some 
Kootenay were living in the mountains. The Stoneys made a raid on their 
camp, and the Kootenay ran away. Only two of them remained and hid 
on a tree. The Stoneys thought that all had fled, and pursued them, catch- 
ing some, while others escaped to the mountains, whence they rolled down 
large rocks on the pursuers. The Stoneys turned back. One Kootenay 



1909.] Loivie, The Assiniboine. 235 

squaw ran back towards the old camp with her child. The Stoncys ])lun- 
dered the camp, found the two hidden boys, and carried them off, singing 
a war-song. 

The next winter the Shuswap came to the Stoneys on their snowshoes 
and made friends with them. One Shuswap, however, was angrv on ac- 
count of the attack on the Kootenay and stayed alone, never untving his 
snowshoes. At last he succeeded in embroiling the Stoneys and Shuswap. 
In the fight the Stoneys captured two women and three children. In the 
spring the captives ran away at night. For a while they could not get any 
food except gopher. The Shuswap thought both were dead. After a while 
one of them starved. Of the Kootenay captives, one did not care to live 
with the Stoneys and committed suicide. The other Kootenay took a 
Stoney girl to wife, and had a boy. Afterwards he also committed suicide. 



There was a Stoney named Saddle. His father had killed six Shuswap 
in a battle, but one of them escaped because of his many dreams. After the 
fight was over, Saddle asked, "Where is my brother?" "He is chasing 
the long-haired Shuswap." Saddle followed his brother. His brother had 
a knife tied to either hand. After going some distance. Saddle heard a 
noise. The Shuswap had taken away his brother's knives and pushed 
them into his sides, nearly killing him. "Brother, this Shuswap drove his 
knife in here." Saddle pursued the Shuswap, a knife tied to each of his 
hands. He cried, "Come here, I wish to kill you." The Shuswap knew 
that there was just one thing Saddle was afraid of: dried wood. Accord- 
ingly, he used a club of dried wood, and Saddle fled. The Shuswap went 
to a steep mountain. There a Stoney attacked him and slashed him again 
and again with his knife. For a long time the Shuswap remained alive. 
He said, "If I wanted to, I could kill all the Stoneys." Saddle returned, 
and cut off his head and his long hair. Then the Shuswap 's body stood 
up headless. A great deal 'of blood issued from it, and there were many 
snakes and frogs inside the body. The eyes of the head remained open. 
Saddle took the scalp. 



The Stoneys and Cree were fighting on accoimt of women. The Stoneys 
killed many of the Cree and lost only one of their own men. The Cree 
were angry. They again came to the Saskatchewan to attack the Stoneys. 
One of them, however, said, "We had better go home, the Stoneys are hard 
fighters." Seven Cree went to the Stoney camj) north of Edmonton and 
hid in the brush. The Stoneys moved camp, only one of them remaining 



236 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

behind. When he finally went after the rest of his people, singing as he 
went along, the seven Cree approached and nearly killed him with a shot 
in the shoulder. The Cree thought he was dead, but he supported him- 
self and began to shoot back at them. The Stoneys ran back and were 
attacked by the Cree, who wounded Jacob Bear's-Paw^ in the wrist, break- 
ing his bone. The Cree made an enclosure, but the Stoneys leapt in and 
knifed them. The Stoneys are called Hopa'maksa, because they cut their 
enemies' throats. The Stoneys killed all the Cree. The creek where this 
took place is called Cahl'abi-wintca'-kte-bi-wa'pta (Cree-them-they-killed 
creek) . 

There were two comrades. One went traveling, while tiie other stayed 
at home. The traveler did not return; he had been killed. His comrade 
went on a war-expedition. He arrived at the enemy's camj) and entered 
the chief's lodge. The chief's wife ofl'ered him water, but he did not drink 
it. The chief offered him his pipe, but he refused to smoke it. After a 
while, the chief looked for something behind the bed and showed his visitor 
his dead friend's heads. The young man was furious. The chief took a 
knife and, offering it to his guest, said, "Kill me." The man would not 
take it, then the chief stabbed him with it, but without killing him. The 
young man pulled out the blade and killed his enemy with it. When all 
the people rushed in to capture him, he killed some more, and fled. They 
pursued him, but he turned into an antelo])e and escaped. 



The Kootenay were fighting the Stoneys and were repulsed. They 
fled back to the mountains. Two women, one of them blind, strayed away 
from their people. In the winter they would pick the bones of buffalo 
discarded by the Stoneys. They had hardly any clothes. One Kootenay, 
who had seen them running at a distance, reported it to the chief. The 
chief said, "In the spring we shall look for them." In the spring they 
were found by their people. One of the women had no clothes, using a 
coating of mud in place of moccasins. The Kootenay provided both with 
food and clothes. 



A Kootenay stole a Piegan's son, took him across the mountains, and 
kept him for a year. He owned many good horses, and one of them was 
a fast race-horse. The young Piegan said to himself, "In the summer I 
shall go back to the people." One summer night he fled with two of his 



1 Father of one of the present chief.s. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 237 

captor's best horses. The fugitive knew onlv one path, while the Kootenav 
knew all the roads. The Kootenav told his people to head off the young 
man by traveling along the shortest route. They caught sight of him and 
pursued him, but his horse was fast and he got across the moimtains. Tlie 
Kootenay chased him beyond Porcupine Hill. The Piegan reached the 
top of a hill, and tied up his horse in the wood. The Kootenay passed 
him, liut, looking back, he saw the young man leading his two horses and 
went back. When he was close, he said, "I don't like your stealing the 
horses. I told you you could take whichever horse you liked best. Xow, 
which of us two is strongest, shall have the three horses. If you kill nie, 
take my scalp and the three horses, and if I win I will do the same to you." 
They undressed and stood close to each other. The Kootenay looked into 
the Piegan 's eyes; the Piegan looked scared. The Kootenay killed him, 
scalped him, left the corpse, and rode back with his three horses. 



The people were camping together. One chief said to a scout, "Go to 
the top of the hill. If you spy any people, indicate the direction they come 
from by flashing a mirror." The young man went and discovered some 
enemies stealing the people's horses. He signaled to his people, and they 
went in pursuit of the thieves. The enemy did not run, but prepared for 
a fight. They killed the chief. Then all his followers became furious. 
They rushed on the enemy with their knives, slaying all save a single man. 
They stripped off all his clothes, even his moccasins, and bade him return 
where he came from. He had a hard time of it; his feet were worn out. 
The people recaptured their horses. One Stoney was killed by a shot in 
the shoulder, which passed out at the other side. The people moved camp. 



The Flathead had heard that the Stoneys were the best fighters. Five 
Flatheads went on a horse-raid. Three Stoneys pursued them. They 
went around the Flathead, who did not know the counfry. One of the 
Stoneys had a mule which began to bray. The Stoneys headed off the enemy 
and shot at the Flathead, but missed, only killing one of their horses. The 
Flathead riding it jumped on another horse. Now the enemy only had 
four Stoney horses. The Stoney captured the five saddled horses of the 
Flathead. The enemy retreated to the brush. One Stoney in the cam]) 
heard the report of the guns. He went to look at the figlit. The fighting 
Stoneys shouted, "Don't stand there, that's where they are aiming at!" 
But he went close and was shot in the mentula. The Stoneys were angry, 
rushed on the Flathead, and knifed one of them. The woimded Stoney 



238 Anthropological Papers American Musevni of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

lived four days more, then he died. The Flathead never attacked the 
Stoneys again. 

Twenty-two Cree were traveling together; one of them was an orphan. 
They heard the sound of a woman crying in a coulee, "Let me alone! Let 
me alone!" When they got close, they could not see anyone. Again they 
heard the same cry. The orphan knew what was the matter, but would 
not tell his companions. At last, they found that it was Porcupine's wife, 
whom her husband was beating in a coulee. Porcupine explained that she 
had been unfaithful to him. He also said, "You had better go home, or all 
of you will be killed." The chief said, "No, we are looking for a fight." 
After two days' journey they met some hostile Lidians who killed them all, 
except the orphan and one other man who was wounded in the leg. I'he 
orphan went home. After ten days the other man began to crawl along on 
his hands imtil they got sore. He found a lodge-i)ole, cut it in two, and 
walked on the fragments as stilts. He got so hungry that he ate his buffalo 
robe. He reached a wood and built a fire there. A woman came u\) in 
search of firewood. She had tied up her pony at the entrance to the forest. 
The man noticed the pony, leapt on it, and rode away. When near his own 
camp, he hid in a gully. He heard his parents lamenting his loss. Sud- 
denly he stepped forth. "I am not dead, I am here." His parents kissed 
him and were very glad. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 239 



ABSTRACTS OF MYTHS. 



Trickster Cycle. 



The earth is flooded. Sitco"'ski makes the Muskrat dive for mud, and fashions 
the earth out of it. He makes the Muskrat and Beaver change tails. 



The Muski-at brings up mud, from which I'^kto'^'m' shapes the earth. I"kto"'m' 
debates with Frog on the length of the winter season, and finally agrees to have 
seven winter months. He creates men and horses. 

3. 

The earth is covered with snow, for the summer is kept in a bag tied to a medi- 
cine-man's lodge-pole. I"kto"'m> is hired by supernatural beings to secure the 
summer for the people. He stations animal helpers one behind another. The Fox 
steals the summer and passes it on to his associates, who escape while I"kto"'m' 
engages the owner in conversation. I"kto"'m' joins his comrades, and makes sum- 
mer by opening the bag. A council is called to decide the length of the winter. 
Frog proposes six months, and is knocked down by I"kto"'m', but then I"kto"'m' 
pities him and fixes the period at six months. There is a debate whether men are 
to return to life after death. I"kto"'m' decides that they are to die forever. 
I"kto"'m' makes all animals plunge into a hole with fat. 

4. 

inktu'mni plays with rocks and leaves the impress of his body on them. 



Sitco^'ski discovers women who have never seen men. He informs his fellow- 
men, who follow him to the women's camp. The women choose husbands. The 
chieftainess chooses Sitco"'ski, who refuses to marry her. She forbids her suljjects 
to marry him, and he remains single. 

6. 

I^kto^'mi goes paddling with a young man, lands, and discovers women's camp. 
He explains sexual matters to the two chieftainesses and other women. When he 
has gratified his desires, he wishes to retire, but the women as yet uninitiated hold 
him back. At last he makes his escape. 



Pktu'mni wishes to fly with the geese. The birds take liini up, Imt drop 
a mud-hole, where he is left sticking for several days. 



240 Anthropological Papers American Museum of N^atural Historij. [Vol. IV, 



Sitco^'ski wishes to travel with the Eagle. Eagle abandons him on a mountain 
top. Sitco'i'ski tumbles down head foremost, and sticks in a swamp. When he 
frees himself, he turns into a moose to entice the Eagle down. When the Eagle eats 
of the meat, Sitco^'ski kills him. 

9. 

Sitco^'ski wishes to travel with the geese, is warned of dangers, but insists on 
joining them. The Indians shoot at the geese, who drop Sitco"'ski into a mud-hole. 

10. 

Pktu'mni refuses to present a rock with a gift, aiul is captured by it. He calls 
on birds to help him, promising them his daughter. The birds cause a wiiul that 
shatters the rock. I^ktu'mni announces that he has no daughter. 

11. 

I"kto"'m' suffocates a bear in a sweat-lodge. He wishes to distribute the meat 
among the animals, but is suddenly seized by a rock and held fast. Frog informs 
other animals. They devour all the meat. Finally I"kto"'m' is released by birds 
who break up the rock. 

12. 

Fisher has escaped with some of Sitco"'ski's meat. Sitco"'ski sees Fisher in the 
water, dives after him, but misses him. He discovers that it is only Fisher's reflec- 
tion, and finds Fisher on a tree. Fisher offers to give him some meat if he shuts his 
eyes and opens his mouth, then drops a knife and kills him. 

13. 

Pktu'mni plunges into the water to get berries, but the real berries are above 
him and he has been deceived by their reflection. 

14. 

Sitco"'ski meets a chicken and abu.ses it. The chicken flaps its wings, frighten- 
ing him so that he falls into the water. He gets out and by a ruse gets two fish to 
fight and kill each other. Mink steals the meat. Sitco"'ski angrily calls on Thunder, 
who causes a flood. All unwinged animals perish. Thunder stops the rain, and 
Sitco'i'ski revives the animals. 

15. 

Sitcoii'ski arouses geese's curiosity by packing two sacks. He invites them to 
dance with closed eyes, and wrings their necks. He cooks the dead geese. Fox 
approaches, pretending to limp. Sitco"'ski proposes a race for the food. Fox wins, 
and eats up all the food. 

16. 

I^kto^'mi pretends to mourn his brother's death and induces the ducks to 
accompany him on a war-party. First he bids them dance around Turtle with shut 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 241 

eyes. While they are dancing, he kills most of them. The rest escape. Turtle 
tries to flee, but is slain, after warning I^kto^i'm' not to drink water for four days. 
Coyote approaches, pretending to limp. I"kto'^'m' offers to give him food, pro- 
vided he gets a bucket for him. Coyote gets several buckets, but I"kto"'m' is not 
satisfied with them and sends him off again. Finally, he obtains the desired vessel, 
and I'^kto'i'm' sits down on a rock, which holds him fast. Coyote notifies other 
animals, and they eat up all the food. I'^kto'i'm^ begs birds to free him, promising 
to paint their wings. They shatter the rock, and he fulfils his promise. Pkto"'m' 
recollects Turtle's warning, and is afraid to drink. When he stoops down at last, 
a large turtle seizes his lip and hangs on, until I'^kto'^'mi burns it with his pipe. 
I'^kto^'m' lays it on its back and makes it promise never to bite people. 

17. 

Fox pretends to be lame. I^ktu'mni challenges him to a race, offering to tie a 
stone to his foot. Fox outruns him, and devours all his food. I^ktu'mni vainly 
tries to kill him. 

18. 

I"ktu'mni asks his rump to guard his eggs and wake him if anyone should ap- 
proach. The rump fails to do so, and the eggs are eaten up by a stranger. I°ktu'mni 
angrily burns his rump and walks off. He retiu-ns to the same place, mistakes his 
flesh for meat, and eats it. 

19. 

Sitco"'ski passes a sleeping marten and lynx. 

20. 

Sitco^'ski hears people dancing, and finds mice dancing in a buffalo skull. He 
puts his head in and cannot get it out for some time. 

21. 

Sitco^'ski puts his head into dancing mice's buffalo skull. He falls asleep. 
The mice chew up his hair, and when he wakes up he cannot pull his head out. Fin- 
ally he breaks the skull against rocks. 



Sitco^'ski learns an eye-juggling trick of some birds. When he throws both his 
eyes on a tree, however, they remain there, and he is obliged to make new eyes of 
pitch. 

23. 

Pkton'mi learns the eye-juggling trick of four boys, who warn him not to practise 
it too frequently. They also show him the trick of whittling off his feet and catcliing 
game, but warn him not to perform it when alone. He tries the eye-juggling trick 
once too often, and loses his eyes; the boys restore them to him, but take away his 
power. He also disobeys the second warning, and gets stuck in a tree. The boys 
rescue him, but take away his remaining powers. 



242 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xatural History. [Vol. IV, 

24. 

Sitco"'ski bids a bird transport his mentula to a sleeping beaver on the opposite 
side of a creek. The bird puts it in the wrong place. Then the beaver wakes up and 
dives into the water. 

25. 

A mink has intercovirse with a beaver. Sitco^'ski sees them and requests the 
mink to act as his go-between (like the bird in 24). 

26. 

Sitco^'ski abducts young beavers. Fear of the old beaver deters hitn from 
drinking, and he perishes of thirst. Magpie restores him to life. 

27. 

Sitco^'ski stays with Beaver for a time. He abducts and eats the young beaver. 
Beaver bites him when he tries to drink. He howls with pain. 

28. 

Sitco^'ski abuses a rock, and is pursued by it. It catches him and rolls over him. 
He begs Thunder for aid, and the rock is burst asunder. 

29. 

Sitco"'ski marries a girl, but infringes nuptial taboo, and his wife disappears. 
He meets and follows a buffalo-cow to her camp, and is caught in a pen with the 
buffalo. 

30. 

Sitco"'ski suspects wolverenes of wishing to steal his coat. They actually take 
it. He gives chase, but fails to overtake them. In the spring he tracks them to 
their camp, and holds one of the thieves over the fire, burning his hair. 

31. 

Sitco"'ski is pursued by a bear, kicks up a buffalo skull, puts on the horns, and 
then pursues the frightened bear. 

32. 

Sitco"'ski is plagued by mosquitoes. 

33. 

Sitco"'ski repeatedly kicks and pulverizes a buffalo skull in his path, but it 
invariably resumes its former shape. Finally it turns into a buffalo that pursues 
him. Sitco'^'ski conciliates it with tobacco. 

34. 

I'^ktu'mni proposes to Rabbit that whichever of them falls asleep first may 
abuse the other. Inktu'mni falls asleep first, and is abused. When easing himself, 
he drops little rabbits, but when he tries to catch a rabbit he soils his blanket. 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 243 

35. 

Four Cree set out to visit Sitco"'ski. They hear his drum near-l)y, but fail to 
reach him for several days. When they arrive at their destination, one of them 
asks for eternal life, another for Sitcon'ski's daughter, the remaining two for medi- 
cines. The first man is transformed into stone. The second Cree weds the girl, 
but breaks nuptial taboo, and his wife disappears. The other visitors receive 
medicines. They believe they have stayed only four days, but in reality they have 
been away for as many years. 

36. 

(Begins like 35). Sitco^'ski kills his sisters' children. The women pursue him. 
He builds a tunnel and suffocates them in it. ,. 

37. 

Sitco"'ski feigns death, after giving his wife instructions. He is buried, but 
returns to marry his daughters. He is detected and obliged to flee. 

38. 

Sitco^'ski travels in female garments, and is married by a young man. He 
pretends to give birth to a child, but actually packs a fox. When his trickery is 
exposed, he flees. 

39. 

Sitco"'ski leaves his old wife to go traveling. He puts on women's clothes and 
marries a young man. (The story continues as in 38). He ultimately returns home, 
and lies to his wife about his long absence. 

40. 

Sitco"'ski finds berries and asks them for their second name. They are called 
Scratch-Rump. He eats of the berries, and is obliged to scratch himself until the 
blood begins to flow. He angrily builds a fire, burns his buttocks, and walks away. 
Returning to the same spot, he puts his burnt flesh on the trees, forming gum. 

41. 

Sitco°'ski finds roots, named ^^■ind. After eating them, he breaks wind and is 
carried up into the air. He is carried higher and higher. Trees which he tries to 
cling to are carried up with him. He finally falls into a nmd-hole. When he gets 
out, he finds many snakes. He uses them as whips, killing one after another. 

42. 

(Similar to 41). Sitco"'ski packs an old woman to stop ascending, but both rise 
into the air. The woman is killed in falling down; Sitco"'ski sticks in the ground. 

43. 

Sitco"'ski borrows some of Skunk's iiower, but wastes it, splitting a tree-stump. 
He is killed trving to steal Skunk's wife, but revives. A passer-by captures him and 



244 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

makes him pile up firewood. Sitco'^'ski begs Weasel to crawl into his captor's body 
and eat his heart. Weasel obeys, killing Sitco"'ski's enemy. By way of compensa- 
tion, Sitco"'ski washes him in snow to make him white. 

44. 

I"kto°'m' teaches the Indians to hunt buffalo, to eat the various parts of the 
animal, and to make knives. 

45. 

Pkto°'m' warns ten women of the approach of Disease, and instructs them how 
to be saved. He profits by their obedience, playing the part of Disease. 

46. 

I°kto"'mi distributes ceremonials to various animals, bidding them appear to the 
Indians in their dreams and to pass on the ceremonials to them. 

47. 

I'^kto'^'m' helps a calf out of the mire. They travel together. The calf rolls 
over several times on the way and becomes a very large bull. I"kto"'m' is also 
transformed into a well-sized buffalo. They steal two women from the buffalo 
camp, and have to fight two of the bulls. They defeat their enemies. The calf and 
Pkto^'m* separate, the calf promising plenty of buffalo for the Indians. 

48. 

I^kto^'mi pretends to guard a man's rattle, while the owner is sleeping, but 
tries to steal it. He is overtaken, and pleads as an excuse that he was only trying 
to preserve the rattle from winged thieves. 

49. 

Sitco'^'ski roasts and eats one of his boys. His second son escapes. 

50. 

Sitco^'ski has been refused by a chief's daughter. By magic, he transforms rags 
into fine clothes, and in this guise lures her from home. On the way he disappears, 
leaving his clothes, which turn into excrements. 

51. 

I'lktu'mni tries to visit another man's wife, but gets stuck in the ground as he 
crawls towards her lodge. 

52. 

Sitco'^'ski fails to cross a swamp, until he begs a stick to act as a bridge. He is 
doctored by a bear. In return, the bear asks him to fill several pails with berries for 
him. Sitco'^'ski gets tired and fills them partly with moss. Traveling on, he meets 
beavers pretending to be dead. He packs one, and cuts sticks to roast it on. In the 
meantime, the beaver swims out on the lake with Sitco"'ski's pouch, but returns it 
when SitcQii'ski begins to cry. 



1909.] Loivie, The Assiniboine. 245 

Miscellaneous Tales. 

1. Teze'xnin. 

(o) A poor boy, living with his grandmother, has food while people are starving. 
The people steal his supplies, but he kills more game. The chief offers him his 
daughter for a wife. He constructs a buffalo-pound, and by sweating becomes 
handsome. 

(6) A poor boy lives with his grandmother, whom he supplies with footl by his 
magic. When people try to steal his meat, he breaks their arms. He marries the 
chief's daughter, sweats, and becomes handsome. 

(c) Teze'xnin makes a girl conceive by using the same spot for micturition. 
A boy is born and wets Teze'xnin, whereby the latter is recognized as the father. 
The girl does not like him at first, but he transforms himself into a handsome youth. 

(d) The scrapings from a moose skin are transformed into a boy, who grows up 
with miraculous rapidity. He causes the chief's daughter to conceive, and is recog- 
nized by a test as the child's father. The chief abandons his daughter, the boy, 
and the boy's foster-mother. The boy, by his magic, transforms rags into fine 
clothes, turns into a handsome youth, and chases moose in the guise of a moose. 

(e) A poor boy wishes to join two girls at play, but is snubbed by them. He 
kills game during a famine, then one of the girls marries him. He saves people from 
starvation and decrees that none are to step over meat. The taboo is disobeyed, 
and the boy disappears. 

2. The Poor Boy. 

A poor boy, living with his grandmother, secures anything he desires by his 
magical power. He erects a buffalo pound and drives in the buffalo. After a while, 
the buffalo are located with great difficulty, and finally go to the mountains. 

3. The Orphan Brother and Sister. 

(a) An orphan boy, living with his sister, catches beaver by means of his medi- 
cine. When people try to steal his beaver, he breaks their arms, but cures them 
afterwards. He prophesies his sister's abduction. She is carried away by the 
enemy, but rescued by her brother. The boy goes traveling, and kills a bear. 

(6) The Orphan traps the sun, which is released by a mouse. 

(c) An orphan boy, by his magic, secures game, and erects a fine lodge for 
himself and his sister. The girl is kidnapped by Indians, but her brother pursues the 
enemy on a magic steed, kills them, and rescues his sister. His sister marries a 
young man, and the orphan boy weds his brother-in-law's sister. 

4. The Deserted Children. 

A young man defecates beads. Some girls play with his excrements. He 
wrongfully accuses them of planning the destruction of the tribe, and they are ac- 
cordingly abandoned while at play. The children try to track the people. They 
meet a cannibal witch, and sleep in her lodge. The witch kills nearly all the children, 
but one girl, who is warned by her little brother, offers to perform menial duties for 



246 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\o\. IV, 

her, and is spared. While out with her brotlier, the girl is counseled by a skull, 
and flees. When the witch calls her, the skull answers in her stead. At last the 
witch discovers the deception, and pursues her captives. The children pick and chew- 
lice from a swan's head and are allowed to cross a stream over the swans' necks. 
The witch gets to the swans and is bidden to do likewise. She obeys, but abuses 
them. The swans pretend to form a bridge, but raise their heads, and the cannibal 
is drowned. The children catch up to their folks, but only one kindly old woman 
is willing to house them. The bead-maker orders them to be tied to a tree, and they 
are again abandoned. The kind old woman's dog, however, remains with them and 
liberates them. The boy, by his magic, secures game, transforms himself by sweat- 
ing, into a well-sized youth, and erects a fine lodge. He goes out in quest of adven- 
tures, ignoring his sister's warnings. He kills a big bear and a giant. The people 
who deserted the children are starving. The deserted children feed the kind old 
woman, but abuse their parents. 

5. The Two Brothers. 

Two brothers are traveling together by a lake. An old man paddling near-by 
catches the younger boy's toy and decoys the older brother to his canoe, then paddles 
off. The kidnapped youth is snubbed by his abductor's older daughter, but her 
younger sister marries him. The youth kills his father-in-law's manitou helpers, 
and finally the old man himself. He sets out to find his brother, who lives with the 
wolves, being half a wolf himself. The hero transforms himself into a moose and 
catches his wolf-brother as he is eating his rump. The brothers live together. 
Once, when out hunting, the younger boy disappears. A bald-headed eagle informs 
the hero that the dog-fish are playing with his wolf-brother's skin. He hides on a 
sand-bank, kills many of them, and wounds others. A toad comes to doctor the 
wounded, but is intercepted, drawn out as to his errand, killed, and flayed. The 
youth puts on the toad's skin, plaj^s the part of the physician, and kills the patients. 

6. The Underground Journey. 

(a) A woman abducted by a bear, gives birth to a boy. During her captor's 
absence, she flees with the child and escapes to her camp. The boy, Icma', quarrels 
with other boys and kills several of them. He sets out to travel, and makes friends 
with Wood-Twister and Timber-Hauler, who live with him. One of the three stays 
at home every day, while the others are out hunting. When Wood-Twister and 
Timber-Hauler stay home, they are killed by an ogre and have to be revived by Icma'. 
On the third day Icma' stays home, and kills the monster. The three friends begin 
traveling again. A chief offers his three daughters to anyone W'ho will rescue them 
from a subterranean captor. Icma' descends in a box lowered by his friends, kills 
animal and cannibal guardians, and rescues the girls, who present him with tokens 
of their affection. He places them in the box, which is hoisted by Wood-Twister 
and Timber-Hauler, but when he himself is to be raised, they cut the rope, dropping 
the box. Icma' ascends on an eagle's back and arrives just as his false friends are 
about to marry the girls. Icma' proves his identity by means of his tokens, and 
marries the chief's daughters. 

(6) Fragmentary version of (a). 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 247 

7. POTIPHAR. 

(a) A young man, wrongfully accused by his father's second wife, is abandoned 
by his father on an island. He puts on a gull's skin and flies across the lake. When 
on dry land, he passes two alternately closing and opening cracks by throwing in 
fish. He returns to camp and finds his real mother, who has been abused by her 
husband. He orders her to throw her rival's baby into the fire. She obeys, and is 
pursued by her husband. She runs towards her son. Father and son have a trial 
of strength. The young man pulls down the sunbeams, and kills his father with the 
heat. 

(b) Teze'xnin is wrongly accused by his older brother's wife, who has tried in 
vain to seduce him. Her husband asks Teze'xnin to climb a tree by a river, which he 
chops down. Teze'xnin falls into the water, but gets out and becomes very strong. 

(c) Red-Boat, the older brother, abandons the hero on an island. The young 
man finds an enemy there and scalps him. He conciliates a water-monster by 
presenting it with the scalp. By its aid, he overcomes a huge mosquito sent by 
Red-Boat. The water-being's wife gives him advice, and permits him to eat one of 
her children, provided he does not break the bones. He returns to camp. Red- 
Boat's brother-in-law has married the hero's sister, but is abusing her continually. 
The boy slays him with a bone weapon, then he kills Red-Boat with heat and pun- 
ishes his sister-in-law. 

8. The Son-in-Law's Tests. 

(a) Sitco^'ski has killed three soiis-in-law. A fourth young man marries his 
daughter and is warned by her. Sitco^^'ski invites him to go traveling. In the night, 
the old man gets up to burn his son-in-law's moccasins, but his son-in-law has divined 
his intentions and exchanged the two pairs, so that Sitco^'ski burns up his own. 
It is very cold, so Sitco^'ski sends the young man home with a message to his wife, 
bidding her make new moccasins. The hero returns by a roundabout route. 
Sitco'i'ski is found frozen stiff when his wife returns, but a fire restores him. Sitco"'- 
ski invites his son-in-law to hunt eggs on an island, where he abandons him. The 
young man flies away as a gull and reaches home before Sitco^'ski. 

(6) An old man sends his sons-in-law for willows and then kills them through his 
manitous. The fourth son-in-law is not attacked when going for the sticks. The 
father-in-law sends him against a big elk. The young man shoots the animal from a 
tunnel dug by a mouse helper and brings home the antlers. The father-in-law 
invites the youth to get feathers from an island, where he abandons him. The 
youth flies away as a bird and reaches home before his enemy. The old man sets 
out traveling with his son-in-law. In the night he tries to burn up the hero's mocca- 
sins, but the youth has exchanged the pairs. The hero is sent home to order new 
ones, but in the meantime the old man perishes from the cold. The young man's 
mother-in-law desires to marry him and in a swinging-game throws her daughter 
into the water, offering her to a big fish. She plays the daughter's part, but the hero 
grows suspicious and learns that his wife is in the water. He turns into a stick by 
the water-edge and captures her as she rises to nurse her baby. He cuts off the fish- 
like section of her body and returns home. The old woman flees 



248 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

9. The Evil Parents-in-Law. 

Grandmother warns boy in quest of a wife against evil people. He sets out for 
their country. His father-in-law sets him tasks. He must cut down all the trees 
on a hill, eat an entire cow, and engage in a shooting match with the old man. He 
performs the first two tasks by his grandmother's aid and his own cunning, and in 
the third kills his opponent. His mother-in-law permits him to dance with his wife, 
but not to sleep with her. The lovers deceive her and fly away as birds. The old 
woman pursues them, but the fugitives assume the shape of various animals and 
escape. 

10. Adventures of Two Boys. 

A chief offers his daughters to aTiyone that will bring him a handsome dog. One 
of two boys at last satisfies him, and weds one of the girls. The other boy also sets 
out in search of a dog, but reaches an ogre's house, where he is held captive. The 
ogre's mule helps him to run off. The ogre re-captures him and builds a fire. The 
boy bathes in his mule's perspiration, leaps into the fire and comes out unscathed, 
while the ogre perishes in the contest. The boy finils a beautiful dog, returns, and 
marries the second girl. The chief asks the boy to bring cattle from the sea. The 
boy succeeds and becomes chief himself. 

11. The Lecherous Sister. 

(a) A sister embraces her brother in the dark. He paints his hands, rubs them 
on her robe, and identifies her as his visitor. The boy is ashamed and paddles away. 
The enraged young woman kills all the people. Her brother returns, kills her, cuts 
up her body, and sprinkles strips of flesh in every fireplace. The people are revived. 

(6) Two girls wish to seduce their brother. He paddles away. They call on a 
big fish to devour him, but the monster spares him. The girls play with the children 
in the camp. They turn into bears, kill all the children except an orphan boy and 
girl who remain hidden, and also the grown-up people, except their own parents, 
whom they wound and blind. The boy returns, kills the evil sisters, cures his parents 
and revives the dead. 

12. The Witch. 

A witch kills a sleeping boy with her medicine. The boy's brother sets out after 
him, pretends to sleep when he meets the witch, but seizes her as she tries to poison 
him, kills her with one of her charms, and with the other restores his dead brother 
to life. 

13. The Faeces as Suitor. 

A young woman's offended faeces assume human guise and are entertained by 
her father. The visitor courts the girl, and she follows him, but the heat reduces 
him to his true shape, and the girl returns crying. 

14. The Giants. 

The fourth of seven brothers looks for three of the boys, who have not returned. 
He is caught by a magnetic spear and captured by a foolish giant. Following his 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 240 

prisoner's suggestion, the giant leaves him on a tree. When he'has^gone, the boy- 
substitutes a log for his own body. The giant returns and eats'the log. The boy 
stabs him with his own spear, which sticks in his head. The giant returns, and no 
one can doctor him. I"kto"'m' pretends to cure him, but causes his death. The 
boy convinces a giantess that he is her brother, and is treated accordingly. Finally, 
she bids him depart. I^kto^^'m^ warns him not to turn back before reaching the other 
side of the hill. The boy disobeys and is drawn back into the camp. lie is warned 
again, obeys this time, and finds his lost brothers. 

15. The Old Husband and the Young Lover. 

(a) A boy elopes with an old man's wife. The husband pursues them, but they 
escape, turning into grass and trees during their flight. After a while they return. 
The old man subjects his rival to an eating test. The young man pulls down the 
sunbeams and destroys his enemy with the heat. 

(6) The elopers save themselves by successive metamorphoses, but are finally 
caught, stripped naked, and left to freeze. The young lover produces clothes by 
magic. (This incident is repeated four times). After four years, the husband 
challenges his rival to a contest. The young man sw-allows a spear without trouble, 
but it sticks in the old man's throat. The young lover saves him, but after a while 
shoots and kills him. 

16. Lodge-Boy and Thrown-Away's Father. 

A pregnant woman, ignoring her husband's warning, answers u calling stranger. 
The visitor without killing her, opens her body, throws out her twin boys, and 
escapes with her underground. The husband returns and gives chase. Ascending 
above ground again, he discovers his enemy. The people cook him, but an old 
woman saves his bones and hair and restores him to life. He pulls down the sun- 
beams, destroys his enemies, and recovers his wife. 

17. The Thunder-Bird. 

(a) The Thunder-bird pulls a water-animal out of the water and lifts it to the 
clouds. 

(6) A man is hidden by a young thunder-bird, but thrown out together with 
his protector by the bird's father. The mother-bird brings her child in again. 

18. The Women who married Stars. 

One of two girls looking out of the smoke-hole of the lodge, wishes to marry a 
star. The next night, two stars come down and take them both to the sky. The 
w^omen are warned not to dig near certain trees. One of them disobeys, sees her 
former home through the sky-hole, and gets homesick. Spider lowers them by a 
rope, bidding them shut their eyes. One girl disobeys, and they are only lowered 
to a tree top. The girls hail a wolverene, who rescues them and takes them home. 
Warned by his other wives, they flee. Wolverene, disguised as a baby, is taken up 
by the disobedient young woman, and assaults her, but is overcome and killed. The 
girls walk homewards and hail a boatman to take them across. Diver, the ferrj-man, 



250 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Histonj. [\'ol. IV, 

takes them to his home instead. Diver attends a dance, which lie forbids his wives 
to look at. One of them disobeys, finds him to be ugly, and induces her companion 
to flee. They put bees and ants under their blankets and depart. Diver is bitten 
by the insects; he pursues and kills his wives. He pretends to mourn for them. 
People discover his deed and try to kill him. He plunges into the water. Tosna' 
laps up the water, but a bird makes him disgorge it again, antl Diver escapes. 

19. Ball-Girl. 

A boy instructs his sister how to act in following a suitor, whose advent he pre- 
dicts. She does not follow his advice and is unable to recognize her suitor from 
among his brothers. The young men's father, by his magic, strips her naked to 
freeze on the prairie. She is saved by her brother, who renews his instructions. She 
obeys them, magically causes the young men's disappearance, and kills the old man. 
Then she and her brother flee. The old man pursues her. With the aid of a magic 
ball, she kills a buffalo and offers the slices of meat to her enemy, killing him when 
he fails to swallow the last piece. His sons rise to avenge him, but the girl throws 
up her ball and disappears in the sky. 

20. ]Morning-St.\r. 

A lover disengages the child from his pregnant mistress's body, and elopes with 
her. The husband pursues them. They turn into snakes in the hollow of a tree. 
The pursuer fails to recognize them, and climbs up higher and higher, reaching the 
sky, where he becomes the Morning-Star. 

21. The Seven Stars. 

Seven youths discuss what shape to assume. Various proposals are rejected 
on the ground that the objects mentioned are not imperishable. Finally, they 
decide to become stars and ascend to the sky. 

22. The Dipper. 

A man kills his wife's snake-paramour and cuts off her head. The head rolls 
in pursuit of their seven children. It stays with them and dresses a hide, forbidding 
the children to look at it. One boy disobeys. The head pursues them. The girl 
throws an awl behind them. The head is held up by a great many awls thus pro- 
duced, but after a while gets away from them. Next the fugitives throw a flint 
behind them. A fire arises, and the head is burnt, but emerges at last to continue 
the chase. The children throw a rock in the enemy's path, and the rock turns into 
a mountain. The head is stopped for a time, but finally gets across. The children 
reach the water-edge. Cranes form a bridge to help them across, but throw the head 
into the water. After a while the head gets out. Then the girl makes a ball and 
begins to play with her brothers. All rise to the sky and form the Dipper. 

23. The Bear- Woman. 

(a) People kill a woman's bear-lover. She asks for a piece of the bear's skin, 
transforms herself into a bear, and kills all the people except her own family. Her 



1909.] Loivie, The Assiniboine. 251 

brothers return from the chase and are told by their little sister where the l)ear- 
woman is vulnerable. They slay her, pulverize her heart, sprinkle tlie powder on 
the fireplaces of the camp, and thus revive all the dead. 

(6) A girl playing with other children turns into a bear, and kills all the people 
save her little sister, who becomes her slave. The bear-woman's brothers return. 
The little girl discovers her sister's vulnerable point and informs the young men, 
who kill the bear, pulverize the bones, sprinkle the powder on all the fireplaces, and 
shoot arrows into the air, thus reviving all. 

24. Burr-Woman. 

A girl whose advances have been spurned by a handsome young man complains 
to her grandmother, who promises to avenge the rebuff. When the camp is broken, 
she asks the youth to carry her on his back. He consents, but afterwards cannot 
dislodge her from his back. At last, two girls pull her off and marry the young man. 

25. The Snake-Man. 

(«) Two men traveling together find a large snake in their path. They burn a 
path through it. One of them eats of the burnt flesh and gradually turns into a 
snake, which plunges into the water. 

(b) The snake-man's younger brother is requested by Thunder to fight a monster 
devouring Thunder's children. The boy kills the monster. Then Thunder allows 
him to see his brother, who has assumed the shape of a turtle. 

(c) Caribou slays an iron ogre killing Thunder's brood. Caribou travels with 
a companion. They burn a path through a snake's body. Caribou tastes the 
meat and is gradually transformed into a snake. Thunder tries to kill the snake, 
but it thwarts his designs, assuming different shapes, until a friend makes little 
frogs which kill it while in turtle-form. 

26. The Awl-Elbow Witches. 

Two witches kill visitors with their awl-elbows. The hero makes them stab and 
kill each other. 

27. The Comrades' Pranks. 

(a) One of two travelers sharpens his legs and attacks his comrade for sport. 
The second traveler retaliates by turning into a bull and pursuing Sharpened-Leg. 
Sharpened-Leg transforms himself into an elk and attacks his comrade again. The 
buffalo-man reciprocates by becoming a grizzly. Sharpened-Leg begs to be let 
alone, and they travel on in peace. 

(6) Of two comrades, one turns into a bear to frighten his friend. The other 
changes into a buffalo and returns the favor. The first man sharpens his leg to kick 
his companion, but the other traveler watches him and flees, bidding a tree answer 
in his stead. Sharpened-Leg finally discovers the deception and pursues his friend, 
who climbs a tree. Sharpened-Leg tries to kick the tree down, but his leg gets stuck 
and has to be released by his companion. They meet a tribe and are engaged in a 
contest of bravery, in which Sharpened-Leg is defeated by his comrade. 



252 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

28. Sharpened-Leg. 

A young man sharpens his legs and attacks his comrade, who seeks refuge on a 
tree. Sharpened-Leg knocks down the tree and kills his friend. He kicks other 
trees, but his leg gets caught in a tree. 

29. The Magic Springs. 

During a famine, a young hunter steps into an unfrozen spring. His moccasins 
are stained with blood, and his wife thinks he has killed some game, which he denies. 
His father-in-law proposes to go with him to the spring. There he pushes in a stick 
and calls the moose. Moose come out and are shot. From other springs other 
animals are summoned, and the famine is at an end. 

30. The Buffaloes' Ward. 

A dog runs away wuth a boy strapped to its travois. The child is raised by 
buffaloes, who finally tell him how he was found by them. After receiving instruc- 
tions, he is sent back to live with his grandparents. The boy collects presents, 
invites the buffalo to camp, and divides the gifts among them. They come again 
the next day and are treated in the same way. When they go away, the boy also 
disappears. 

31. The Buffalo-Boy. 

A boy catches eagles. One eagle punishes him by setting him on a mountain 
top, but finally takes him down and gives him feathers with instructions as to their 
use. The boy meets buffalo, who do not hurt him when he presents them with the 
feathers. He is transformed into a buffalo. After some time, he returns home. 
For four days he eats grass like a buffalo. 

.32. The Grizzly and his W^ard. 

A boy strays from his people. A grizzly meets him and takes him to his cave. 
In the spring, the Indians get to the cave, shoot the bear, and find the boy. 

33. The Grateful Bear. 

A woman is maltreated by her husband. She flees and spends a night in an 
empty bear-cave. The bear returns, and has a stick removed from a wound. In 
return, he directs her to her family's camp. 

34. The Young Bear. 

A bear captures a w'oman. She escapes, and her people kill the pursuer. The 
woman's cub kills several boys at play, but is worsted by another Indian boy. 

35. The Bear-W^ife. 

(a) A chief's son, traveling with a companion, embraces a sleeping bear. The 
bear comes to his camp at night and lies beside him. In the morning, the young 



1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 253 

man collects presents and gives them to the bear, who departs. The bear's son is 
found by the people. She comes once more and tells her husband that the boy may 
stay with him and that she will give him power. The boy becomes a big chief. 

(6) A young man embraces a sleeping bear. She takes him to her cave and then 
accompanies him home. She gives birth to a human boy, who becomes a great 
warrior. 

36. Snake and Bear- Woman. 

After a conflagration, a snake finds a bear-woman. They marry. Bear, by her 
magic, creates a fine lodge, and takes him to her father. There they stay for a year. 
The old bear instructs Snake not to eat his flesh, but allows him to kill bears and take 
their skins. 

37. The Beaver-Man. 

(a) A young man warns his father not to walk close to a lake. The old man 
forgets and is tempted by a beaver, who takes him down below the surface of the 
water. His son helps him out, but, on being challenged by a rival, the young man 
enters the beaver-woman's house never to return. 

(b) A young man finds beaver-women at work. They take him to their house, 
and he marries them. The people come and kill all the beavers, except their tribes- 
man. 

38. The Piqued Buffalo-Wife. 

(a) A man plucks young eagles and kills the old eagle. The eagle-chief pun- 
ishes him by leaving him for ten days on a mountain. Relenting, he then gives him 
feathers with instructions. The hero meets wild buffalo, whom he conciliates by 
giving ,them the feathers. A cow takes him home for her husband. The hero 
apportions to each species of animals its peculiar kind of food. He marries a moose- 
woman. His brother, Magpie, asks the two wives to race. The moose makes a 
mud-hole, in which the buffalo-cow gets stuck, losing the race. W^hen she gets out, 
she returns with her calf to her father's camp. The hero follows, but is trampled 
to death by the buffalo, Magpie looks for his hair and revives him. The buffalo 
pursue them. Magpie makes an iron house for them. The buffalo hook it, but only 
kill themselves. 

(6) Magpie marries a buffalo and a moose-woman. The wives are jealous of 
each other and run a race for the sole possession of their husband. Moose causes her 
rival to stick in the mud, so that she loses the race. The buffalo is offended and 
leaves with her calf. Magpie follows, and is told by the calf, which lingers Ijchind, 
where to find water to drink. They arrive at the buffalo camp. The buffalo dance, 
and hook Magpie to death. Magpie is restored to life by his brother. The buffalo 
come to attack them, but Magpie turns their lodge into an iron house, where they are 
safe. 

(c) Jack-Rabbit, a great warrior, kills a hitherto invulnerable chieftainess. 
He impregnates a girl, who gives birth to a child. He kills the woman several times, 
but each time she revives. Then he lives with her. She gets angry and leaves 
for the buffalo camp. There Jack-Rabbit is obliged to pick out his son from a num- 
ber of calves. His son helps him, but at one trial the hero chooses the wrong calf, 
and is killed. The calf resuscitates him by shooting arrows into the air. They 



254 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

then pursue the buffalo. Jack-Rabbit causes a great frost so as nearly to freeze the 
buffalo chief to death. Then he pulls down the sunbeams and makes him burn up 
from the heat. 

39. The Wolf- Wife. 

A man dreams of a she-wolf, whom he marries. When he marries another 
woman, the wolf kills her. The wolf gives birth to a boy, who becomes a great 
hunter. 

40. The Antelope- Woman. 

A man hunting antelope finds a beautiful woman, who turns into an antelope 
and lures him away. He himself is transformed into a male antelope. 

41. The Red Hawk and the Black Hawk. 
The Red Hawk and the Black Hawk have a trial of skill. The Black Hawk wins. 

42. Frog. 

Frog abducts a handsome boy, but the boy's father recaptures his child and 
frightens Frog into the water. 

43. The Crane and the Otter. 

Crane asks Otter to take care of her child during the winter. Otter does so, but 
is killed by Cold, who maltreats the young birtl. In the spring Crane returns, kills 
Cold, and rewards the Otter species. 

44. Wis^kedidi'n. 

A man sees elk on the opposite side of a river. A fat elk takes him across, and 
the man kills him. A wolf offers to inform the people, and covers the man and his 
food with the skin. The man tries to get out, bloodies his body and turns into the 
bird Wis^kedidi'n. 

45. The Loon and the Bald-Headed Eagle. 

Loon abuses Bald-Headed Eagle. Eagle flies towards him. Loon dives down, 
but is obliged to come up for air. Eagle pursues him, and at last kills him with 
lightning. 

46. The Wolverene and the Wolves. 

Wolves teach Wolverene the trick of making fire by jumping across wood. 
Wolverene practises it too frequently and loses his power. The wolves steal his flint. 
Wolverene freezes. At last, the wolves offer to cover him with their tails, but they 
break wind so as to make it disagreeable for him. 



1909.] Loicie, The Assiniboine. 2o5 

47. Skunk. 

Wolverene angers Skunk. Skunk tries to kill him, but Wolverene closes his 
vent so that he cannot void filth. The other animals come up, and Lynx kills skinik. 
His body is burnt, and from the spots on his corpse latter-day skunks develop. 

48. The Blind Dupe. 

A blind man's wife shoots a buffalo, but pretends to have missed it. She al)an- 
dons her husband. A bird finds him crying and bids him dive into a lake. The man 
recovers his sight, and kills his faithless spouse. 

49. The False Comrade. 

A young man sets out on a journey and marries "a young woman. While out 
hunting he falls asleep, and a witch transforms him into a tree. The man's comrade 
looks for him and is mistaken for his friend by the young man's wife. The witch 
tries to enchant him also, but he has only feigned sleep and enchants her with her 
own charm. He disenchants his friends and other victims. When he tells his 
comrade of the adventure with his wife, the disenchanted youth becomes jealous, 
and kills him. On hearing from his wife that his friend was not at fault, he restores 
him to life, but his rescuer is offended at his comrade's lack of faith, and departs. 

50. The Waka^' Girl. 

A wealthy youth refuses to marry. At length, he weds a poor girl. She turns 
out to have waka"' power, calls buffalo, and gives the power to her husband. 

51. The Bad Wife. 

A woman elopes with a stranger. Her husband goes to look for her, and is 
assisted by a wolf. An old woman gives him mink-skins to put on his feet when 
crossing water. Thus he is able to walk across rivers. They arrive at the elopers' 
camp. The chief challenges the hero to a trial of strength. One of the chief's 
helpers is dropped into a kettle of boiling water and comes out unscathed. The 
hero repeats the feat, staying even a longer time. He also wins the other contests, 
kills the chief and his helpers, and becomes chief himself. He visits the wolf in his 
camp, and rewards him for his services. His father-in-law kills the faithless wife. 

52. The Woman stolen by the Buffalo. 

A buffalo steals a man's wife. The husband stealthily approaches the camp 
and bids his wife follow him. On pretense of getting her bag, she detains him, Imt 
in reality she sets the buffalo at him. He is stripped naked and maltreated, but is 
finally allowed to go back. The buffalo-woman kills many Indians. The hero 
offers to run a race with his wife, each staking the lives of ten Indians and buffalo, 
respectively. He defeats her by magic. They race again, wagering twenty lives 
each. He wins. She then challenges him to a trial of strength. He shoots her in 
her only vulnerable spot, and kills her. From a bone he restores his wife to a human 
form, slits off her nose, and kills her. 



256 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

53. The Abducted Wife. 

A woman is abducted by a beaver and partly assumes the shape of a beaver. 
She comes up from the water to nurse her baby. Her people find the beaver lodge 
and bring her back. She runs away, and turns into a bear, giving birth to cubs. 
Later, she returns, her shape is partly human, in part that of a beaver and of a bear. 
She finally commits suicide. 

54. The Reformed Adulteress. 

A woman disappears. A crow tells her husband where she has gone. The man 
re-captures her. While he is out hunting, the crow keeps guard over her, for which 
he is rewarded. The man treats his wife cruelly, until she promises to be faithful. 

55. The Game-Thief. 

During a famine, a young man steals a successful hunter's game, and pretends 
that he has shot it himself. The hunter undeceives the pretender's father-in-law, 
who upbraids the young man. 

56. The Meeting in a Cave. 

A Blood stops in a cave overnight. A Kootenay goes to the same cave. The 
two become friends. After some time, the Kootenay proposes trials of strength. 
They stake their property, scalps and lives in successive contests. Finally, the 
Kootenay wins, and kills the Blood. 

57. The Gambling Contests. 

A boy, offended by his older brother, runs away. Several days in succession he 
meets a man named Crow. On the fourth day, Crow proposes a game. They roll 
the netted wheel, staking their clothes. The boy wins at first, but Crow retrieves 
his loss. Next they wager their scalps. Crow again wins, and scalps the boy. 
The boy, agreeing to come for another contest, departs to seek his relatives. Crow 
also summons his followers. The tribes meet. A poor boy offers to run a race in 
the hero's place. Both sides stake all their property. The poor boy wins the race. 
The hero recovers his scalp and gains all of Crow's property, but takes pity on his 
opponent and restores some of his horses and other possessions. The hero's older 
brother now makes overtures of friendship, but is snubbed and killed. A young 
man announces the revelation of a ceremony by a prairie-dog. Crow sends a friendly 
message to the hero urging him not to gamble, but insisting on the necessity of 
scalping. 

58. Lesbian Love. 

A woman elopes with her sister-in-law. After a long time, her husband finds 
them together. The girl has given birth to a child without bones. The husband 
kills the infant and his wife. 



1909.] Loicie, The Assiniboine. 2.")7 

59. Equus Stuprator. 

A stallion ravishes his mistress, thereby killing her. Her husband kills him. 

60. Canis Stuprator. 

A dog ravishes his mistress. She gives birth to seven pups. Her husl)and kills 
the dog. 

61. Lignum Mentulae Vice Fungens. 

\'enator duas mulieres conspexit quae ligno pro mentula utebantur. When 
they see him, they break the piece of wood ita ut utriusque earum vulvae dimidium 
haereret. They find that they cannot urinate. The hunter offers to cure them, 
extracts the wood, and receives a liberal compensation. 

62. The Two Hunters. 

Two starving hunters sight a buffalo. Only one of them has a gun, but both 
want to shoot. When the man in front shoots, his comrade thrusts his finger into 
his anus, making him miss. 

63. The Goose and her Lover. 

A man has intercourse with a goose. She follows him to camp, and pursues him 
until he bribes her to let him alone. 

64. Mentula Loquens. 

A yovmg man looking for buffalo asks his mentula whether it sees buffalo. It 
replies affirmatively, and continues to repeat this answer. The young man is 
ashamed. No one is able to cure him until someone suggests that his mother-in-law 
hold it. Then it stops talking. 

65. The Punished Lover's Revenge. 

At night a young man ravishes one of an older man's wives. He is caught. .\t 
her husband's behest, mulier vulvam ad juvenis nares attrivit. Tunc mentulam ita 
ligaverunt ut mingeie non possit. They tie his hands and let him go. He suffers 
agony until released by his brother. He and his friends avenge the insult by catch- 
ing the woman and all gratifying their lust. 

66. Big-Frog. 
Big-Frog kills tribesmen. Buffalo makes him flee, and kills his wife. 

67. The Badger. 

A young man tries to pull a badger out of his hole, but the badger seizes and holds 
him fast for a long ^ime. 



258 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

GS. A Hunting Adventure. 
Two hunters are surprised by a bear, which kills them. 

69. The Horse-Thief. 

A man lies in ambush and frightens passing horses so that they throw their 
riders. He then appropriates the horses. 

70. The White Buffalo. 

One old Stoney staj's home, while the other men are out hunting. A white 
buffalo enters the camp and kills him. 

71. The Four Trappers. 

An unsuccessful trapper tries to spoil the ti'aps of his comra<[es, but is caught by 
the trap and killed. One of his associates is attacked by flies and dies in conse- 
quence of their bites. The remaining trappers are pursued by a fish and killed by 
Skunk. 

72. The Rivals. 

A man hurls a bull-dog flies' nest into a lodge where his rival is courting a girl. 
The flies inflict terrible bites on both the man and the girl. The rivals meet and 
kill each other. 

73. The Bear and the Buffalo. 
A big bear kills several bviffaloes, but is killed by an old bull. 

74. Snow'. 
A woman dreams of Snow killing her husband, and brings the corpse home. 

75. The Offended Feet. 

A man offends his feet, because he greases his hair, but not them. They refuse to 
help him, when he is pursued. He explains that the hair is used by scalpers. The 
feet then help him escape. 

76. Two-Faces. 

A woman gives birth to a two-faced child. 

77. First Meeting with the Cree. 

All the Stoneys have starved, except an okl couple and two boys. As the old 
people maltreat the boys, they run away and meet a party oif Cree, who adopt them. 



1909.] Loicie, The Assiniboine. 259 

78. First Meeting with Whites. 

(a) Inktu'mni descends the Saskatchewan anrl roaches an island. There he 
meets Whites, with whom he trades. 

(6) A Stoney hunter meets a White man with a gun. He is frightened, but is 
reassured. The White man teaches him to shoot, but the Indian is terrified by the 
report of the gun. 

79. The Punitive Expedition. 

(a) Four young men setting out to get feathers from a neighboring band are 
warned by a crane's head not to touch a lame girl. One of them kidnaps the girl; 
her people kill him and two of his brothers, while his brother-in-law escapes and tells 
the news. The father of the slain boys gets up a war-expedition. His son-in-law's 
father is in the hostile camp and is to be warned to hide in the dog-house. However, 
he is killed in the attack, because by mistake a bad old man has been warned instead. 
The bad man is found in the kennel and killed. 

(b) (The story is similar to the foregoing version. The bad old man has a 
ferocious dog, which kills many of his enemies.) 



260 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 



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1909.] Lowie, The Assiniboine. 261 

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1809. 

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Performed in the year 1823, by order of the Hon. J. C. 
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2 volumes. 

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(d) Cheyenne Tales. (Journal of American Folk-Lore, 
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(e) Gros Ventre Myths and Tales. (Anthropological Papers 
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262 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Xaturul History. [\'ol. I\', 

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1909. 



Lou'ie, The Assiniboine. 



203 



^Nlnoga' 
Bull 

Kitci'figa 
(To) his wife, 
edjia'-hanc. 

he said. 
kte'-hantc. 
he killed it. 
kna'-hantc. 
went home, 
ka'a-hantc. 

she made. 



APPENDIX. 



Stoney Texts. 



1. 



wintca' wiji"', wintca'ze ista'oa^-hantc. Wudiu-kta'-liantc. 

man one, the man was blind. He was starving. 

"^Nlnoga' datca'ngtibi he'tca icka'hu hetcu'ta i"jas'ka," 

"Buffalo trail on rope tie ," 

INIno'ga-je u-'hantc. Hetcin' ktide'-hantc. Yazu'h()",s 

The buffalo came. Then he shot. Arrow with 

Wl'aji", ' Ya-o'-cinc, " edjia'-hantc. Hetci'n wi'aji" 

The woman, "You killed not," said. Then the woman 

Wl'aji" mnoga'-je pada'-hantc. Watcu'saga o'da 

The woman the buffalo skinned. Pemmican much 

Wintca'ze tcea'-hantc. I\Iini' one-'a^hanc. Hetci'n no'za, 

Water he sought. Then loon (?), 

akAva'm i'^ktii"' va'-hantc. To.sa'kix 

yonder fire makes. Four times 

Hetci'n wintca' cixna'-hantc. 

Then the man was angr}\ 



The man 



cried. 
"Da'titca eka'ninga? Kitci'nifiga 
"Why do you cry? Your wife 
nunga-'hantc, hetci'n ista' waste'-hantc 
he dived, then his eyes were well. 



Aze' maza'ksa^hantc. Ayusta'-hantc. 

Breasts (her) he cut off. He let her go. 



Dome'sesin 

Snake 
snohe'-cni^-hantc 

knew not. 
ya'mea^-hantc. 
went hunting, 
edjia'-hantc 



\vi"'ya" 
woman 
Aha'iigia 
After a while 
Da waji"' 
Moose one 



kitci'-hu'-hantc- 
with cohabited, 
snohia'-hantc. 
he knew. 



Docna' wi'Hca'ze 
Long her husband 

Snoliie'-tcaha"\ wi"tca'ze 
^^'hcn he knew, 



o'-hanc. 
he killed. 



Etci'n 
Then 



"dano' 
"Meat 



Wi'a'^ji", "Hii'nga, dja'i'ji'be awaxni'tccs," 
he said. The woman, "Wait, firewood _I fetch first," 

Wi'^tca'ze, "hetcl'aka, hiya"'," eya'hanc. "p:'esin, dano' 
"Now, no," said. "Hasten, meat 

Etci'n cu'iiga 
Then dog 



The man, 
edjia-'hanc 
he said. 
I'hanc. 
she got to. 
Wi^'aji" 
Woman 



Etci'n axna-'hanc 



said, 
oni ya'-hanc. Dano'jc 
with she went. The meat 
Etci'n ■wi'^tca'ze nii'na 



Then she took it home. Then the man knife 
nl'-hanc. "Dja"ji'be yuma'-kta-c," eya'-hanc. 
returned. 



Firewood I will get," she said. 



the man 
hiyo ya. 
fetch." 
eya'-hanc. 

she said 

hf " 
lya ya, 

bring," 

ekta' 

where it was 

nunia'-haiic. 

sharpened. 

"Hiya"'," 

"No," 



264 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\'ol. IN", 

eya'-hanc \vi"tca'ze. "I"'t()", ne ya'kta"," edjia-'hanc. Etci'n M'i'aji" 

said the man. "Wait, this drink," he said. Then woman 

yakta'-hanc. Etci'n ayiistu'n-tcaha", hiyoha'-hanc Etci'n 

drank. Then through when, she went to fetch (wood.) Then 

dome'sesin \vi"tca'ze owa's wintca'-kte'-hanc. Wi'aji" ci.xna'hanc. 

snakes the man all them liad killed. Woman was angry. 

Wi'aji" agi'ktaga'-hanc. L)T-n knktc'tcaha", dahu' 

Woman ran home. Lodge into she came in when, (her) neck 

kakto'za-hanc. Wapa'niaksa cdjia'hitc. Etci'n w intca'hinaje, 

he cut off. Head-cutter was his name. Then the l)oys, 

"Ina' pa waxnu'ha-ktac" eya'-hanc. Etci'n nnha'bi^-hanc. 

"Our mother's head I'll keep." he' said. Then they kept it. 

Etci'n wintca'naje waji"' da o'-hanc. Etci'n pa'je-wi'aji" 
Then boy one moose shot. Then head-woman 

oga'cgabi^-tcaha", waha'kta^-hanc. Etci'n, "cnia'xki'da^bik," 

dr&ssed the skin, scraped the hair. Then, "Don't look at me," 

wintca'-gia^-hanc. Dji"ja'-bi etcia'ka waji"', "Ina' awa'kida-ktatc," 

she told them. 8ons ? one, "Mother 1 shall look," 

eya'-hanc. Etci'n tci"'ju"je, "'Ania'kidaH)ik hcye'nic, ' edjia'-hanc." 

he said. Then one son, "Do not look at me," she said. 

Hetcia'ka piyec akida'-hanc. O.xmi'ma^-hanc. "Hama'kidan)ik"-' 

Nevertheless he looked. (The head) fell down. " Don't look at me," 

epa'tc" eya'-hanc. Piye'c akida'-hanc hu'figii.'' Etci'n wi'aji" pa'jc 
I said" it said. But he looked at his mother. Then woman's head 

cixna'-hanc. "Ci'-ktc'-bi-ktatc, " eya'-hanc. Etci'n nampa'-bi-hanc. 
(was) angry. " I shall kill you," it said. Then they ran. 

Etci'n wata'pa^-hanc. Aha'iigia aska'n u'-hanc. Hetci'n ta"ku'dju" 
Then she pursued them. After a while clo.se she came. Then their sister, 
"Dai"'cba nuhe'-cni-ni?" edjia'-hanc. Etci'n yada'da^-hanc, 

"Awl you have not?" they asked. Then they chewed it up, 

boa'-hanc. Etci'n hu'ngn '^'I'jf" woga'cnada^-hanc. 

they threw it back. Then their mother's head got stuck. 

Etci'n nu"dinda'-hane. Docna' cin u'-hantc. Etci'n 

Then she tried to get out. It was a long time before she got otit. Then 

aha'ngia akwa'ni iya'-hanc, ake' wa'ta-ba^-hanc. Etci'n ake' kia'n 
after a while over she got, again she pursued. Then again clo.se 

wintca-ya'-hanc. Etci'n \vi"'anaje da'baban k'aa'-hanc. Mime'a 
to them she came. Then the girl ball made. They stood around, 

etci'n ki-tcu'm-bi'-hanc. Etci'n u"ga'm ya-bi'-hanc. Etci'n 

then they began to play. Then up they went. Then 

cago'wi" sebi'-hanc. Cena'iigac. 

seven (the Dipper) they became. This is all. 



1 The solecism occurs in my field notes. 

2 The initial aspiration should probably be lacking. 

3 Hu'hgu ought, in all probalnlity, to precede akida'hanc. 



1909.1 



Lowie, The Assiniboine. 



265 



Assiniboine Texts. 



]Manko'tce-ne aga'ii 
This earth on 

Atgu'gu, hu'ngu, 

Father, mother, 

lyo'di yegi'a yanga'-bi. 
A hard time they were having. 



kocka -bi i"yu ciia, 
youths seven, 

ko tuwe' 
whether they had any 
"Je'tcen ta'gujc 

"Then what 



waji"' jialia'-catc. 

one red-haired. 

sno'tgra-bic'-hu"cta'. 

they did not know. 

u"'tcal)i-kta-he'?" 

shall we be?" 



ea'bi-hu"cta. Je'tcen wa^ji"' "Manko'tce-je u"'tcabisie"' ea'-hu"cta. 

they asked. Then one "The ground let us become," he said. 

Ksa'be edjia'-bi-je cea'-hu"eta, "Hiya', inanko'tce-ne t'e'-iiaka'Ec, 

Wise-One (the one called) said, "No, the earth mortal' truly, 

o'ksahe-no" hea'-hu"cta. Ake' waji"' "i"'ya"je u"'tc'a bi.sie'." 

it gets caved in (?) " he said. Again one "Rocks let us be." 

"Hiya', t'e'-naka'Ec, iyu'ha mnedja'-he-no. " Ake'c waji"' jea'-hu"fta, 
" No, they are mortal truly, all break apart." Again one said, 

"Tea" ta'iiga, ni'na ta'ngaje u"'tcabi.sie^" ea'-hu"cta. "Hiya'," 
"Trees big, very big . let us be," he said. "No," 

t'e'-nakaEc, ganu'-za-handa gawa'iigino," ea'hu"ncta. 

they are mortal truly, wind when (there is) they are blown over," he said. 

Ake' waji"' jea'hucta, "Mi'ni-je u"'tcabi.sie'" ea'-hucta. "Hiya'," 
Again one said, "Water let us be," he said. "Xo," 

ea'-hucta, "t'e'-naka'Ec, iyu'haii oya'xeno." Ake' waji"' jea'-hu"cta, 

he said, " it is mortal truly, all it dries up." Again one said, 

"Ha"he'bi-je u'^'tcabisie^ " ea'-hucta. "Hiya'," ea'-hucta. "Ha"he'bine 
"Night let us be," he said. 



"No," 
ea'-hucta. 
he said. 
"Hiya', 



he said. 
Ake' waji"' 
Again one 
t'e'-naka'Ec, 



"Night 
ea'-hu"cta, 
said, 
ha^wl'-ne 

sini 

jea'-hucta 

said, 



t'e'-naka'Ec e'sten ao'ja"ja"-no, 
is fleeting truly, soon it is light," 
"A^'baje u"'tcabisie'" ea'-hucta, 

"Day let us be," he said. "No it is fleeting truly, 

i".sa"'ye iya'ya-handa, adk'ba'zano." Ksji'ba-je 

disappears suddenly (?) when again it is dark." The Wise One 

"Hiya', wa'ngam ne toya'yaiigene t'e'-ce-naka'Ec, etca'gen hi'-uo; 

"No, above the blue sky not perishable truly, always living; 

ekta' da'gu yexia'yaiige'-no wani'-no. Je u"tcal)i-kte-ii()," ea'hucta. 

up there objects shining live. 

"Oka'jen u"ya'ngabi-kte-no" 

"In that space (?) we shaU be," 

Je'tcen waji"', 



je'tcabi-hu'cta. 
they are. 



Thus we shall be," he .said, 

ea-'hucta. Ilo! je'tcen 

he said. \\C11! thus 

dju'sinaje\ a-wintca'ya-ucta\ 



Thus 



the smallest one, he takes them up. 



' ]>iteiallv, "dead." 



266 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, 

Xexa'gagan toxmi'so ta'wanetc okna' \\^aji"'-kcina a-wi'ntca-i'^Miinkna, 

Spider web his on it one by one he carries them, 

ivu'ha wintca'-yusoM'*. Hi'nkna aki' ya'mini e'-wintca-knahiga-hinkna, 
all he finished taking up. Then ? three he laid on each side, 

tcoga'n lye' iyo'danga-ucta\ Aha'g'Ex lyedjcha". 

in the middle he himself sat down. The last one went up. 

Xexa'gagan tokmi's tcogan' I'djeha" yuksa'ksa, kun hiyu'ya-hucta. 

Spider web half-way up he broke it, down he threw it. 

Xexa'gagana-ne k'u'-ucta\ 

Spider (to) he gave it. 

2. 

Kocka'-bi iiuni u'mbisa-^hu"cta, ta-kona'gu'-gitei'-ya-bi-hu"cta. 
Youths two stayed together, they were comrades. 

U^ma'i' wi'^tca'-mandjai'a-hu"cta. Ilebi'a waci'dju" tl'tca en 

One was visiting. On the way white man's house at 

ta\vi'^'jutu'^'-hu"cta. Jeta'^'ha'^ paru"' kude'ya-hu"cta. rnumba 

he was married. From there ducks he hunted. A double-barreled gun 

waji"' yuha'-hu"cta. Ya'-wanga-hu'^V*ta. Cii'figa-dariga aga' hefiga. 

one he had. He Vvas going along. A horse on he was. 

Cu'iiga waji'^' djus'inatc yu'hana ma'zatc yuha'-hu^cta. Je'tcen 

Dog one small all iron he had. Then 

cunga'-ga-hi'anga. Ya'-liu'^cta. Ga'yedja tca"c-en xexa'ga num 

on horseback he went. He went. Then brush by elk two 

unga'-bi-hu"cta. Ga'yedja om iye'ic I'ntcfya-liu"cta. Ga'yedja 

were. Then them he himself chased. Then 

tca'^wo'ha iya'ya-bi-hu"cta. Ic akna'-iya'ya-liu"cta. Ewi"'tcakne^ri"te 
brush into they ran. He followed them. He caught up 

jetcen, lia"lie'bi-hu"cta. To'kiko isnutgl'e-c liu"Y'ta. Je'tcen pe'da 
before (?), it was night. Where he was, he knew not. Then light 

gai^t'ku-hui^Yta. E'tgakiia^ otce'tftc wa"ya'ga-hu'^Vta. Tca° 

he made. Near-by fireplace he saw. Sticks 

yuksa'ka^ hi'fikna en i'^tce'ti-hu^Yta. Ao'ja'^ja'^ i'^knu'hana waga'ngan 
he broke, then fire he made. Light suddenly old woman 

waji"^' hina'i'pa en Q'-hu'^eta. Tcosi'^'tcia naji"'-hu'"cta. Gajea'-hu"cta, 
one appeared coming. Warming herself she stood. She said, 

" Mi-ta'gu"c, ma"da'sigin-kta," ea'-hu°cta. "Nlyec', mi-ta'gu"c, 
" My grandson, I am freezing, she said. "You, my grandson, 

icti"'m," edjia'-hu°cta. Je'tcen icti'^'ma-hu^cta. Ga'yetca waga'ngana-ne 
sleep," she said. Then he slept. And this old woman 

jea'-hu"cta, "Ha'di mi'-ta'gu"c," ea'-hu"cta. "Je'nixu'x narin'-kta-tce " 
said, "Rise, my grandson " she said. "You will get burnt," 

1 Yuksa'ksa? 



1909. 



Lowie, The Assijiiboiyie. 



207 



edjia'-hu"cta . Ga'yetca 
she said. Then 

yucka' hin'kna tea" 
she untied, then 

Xangu"' cu'nga-je, 
Tlien the dog, • 

ivQ'hanax tca"'je 
trees 



waji"' 



(la'o-ev'ec-hii"cta. .I(>'tcrn iK'ju'da 

he kept silent. Then medicine one 

waji"' u"s o'ko'ya-lirnkna bajrha-hu"cta. 

touched him. 



stick one with she rubbed and 
da'gu da'waje iia"'Ic tco'daiiga 
things his ? 

tca'be-hu"cta. Jetcen 
all trees different (became). Then 

jea'hu"cta, "Kona' tokia' 
said, "Comrade where 

ea'-hu"cta. Je'tcen Y{i'-hu"cta 

he said. Then he went. 

ha"'-hvi"cta. En ya'-hu"cta. 

was. There he went. 

u'-hu"cta. Kocka'-je jea'-hu"cta, "Kona' 
came. The boy said, "Comrade 



ye'djactac 
he went 

Hebl'a 
On the way 
Ga'yetca wi"k(3'eke 

Then a girl one 

tokia'-he? 

where ?" 



je le ga yete 
also then 

ta-ko'na-gu-je 
partner 
owa'gine^-kta," 
will look," 
waei'dju" tl waji"' 
white man's house one 
i"tko'm 



gun 
u"ma"'-je 
the other 
mic ekta' 
I there 



waji' 



AYi"ko'cka-je jea'-hu"cta, "Hiya' e'ae niye'tc," ea'-hu"eta, 
The girl said, "Xo, that is yourself," she said. 



to meet him 
ea'hu"eta. 
he said. 
Ga'yetea, 

Then, 



Kocka'-je "Kona'k'e to'kia omi'ndjiaga," 
The youth, "My partner where tell me," 

jea'hu"cta, "Hiya', eac' nive'," 



"Hiya' miye'c" ea'hu"cta 
"Not I," he said. 

ea'-hu"cta. Tuka' ake' \vi"ko'cki-je 

he said. But again the girl 

edjia'-hu"cta. " U"-kna'-k'e'etcas, " 

she said. "We will go home," 

edjia'-hu"eta. Je'tcen kitci' knri'-lin"cta. Ti-n 
she said. Then with her he went home. Home 

Jetcen wota'-hn"cta. Oa'ni'ndja-hu"cta. l\ika' 
Then he ate. She would not let him go. But, 



said, 
edjia'-hu"cta. 
she .said. 



■"Xo. it is you," 

"Wdy'atin-kta," 
" You will eat." 
kitci' ki'-hu"cta. 
with her he went, 
to'ketken kna'ya 
somehow he fooled her 



hi'iikna tanga'n gu'-hn"cta. 

and out he went, 

kona'-kte-bi-heno^ etci' -hu"cta. 
his comrade he thought. 



Jetci"-}iu"cta. Xen 

He thought about it. Place where (?) 

Je'tcen ma'za cu'iiga-jc ekna'gu 
Then iron dog he took his 



hi'nkna ma"ka'kta ekna'nga-hu"cta. Jedji'a-hn"cta, "Hunkta', doki'o 

and on the ground he set it down. He said to it, "Go on, yonder 

kona'ye ye'djactac I'yopta' one'," edjia'-]ni"cta. Je'tcen 

my friend where he went in that direction seek," he .said. Then 

cu'nga-je cunkti'je iyu'han d'kca"kca one'-hii"cta. I'iiiia'hetko, 
the dog stable all around looked. 

jeta"'ha" sa"'pagi'a akta'ga-hu"cta. Oye'nc o'lnEna, 
away from there, ahead he ran. He tracked, he scented, he went. 

Ga'yetca tea" ga'kna xexa'ga num Iya'nga-bi-hu"cta. Jetci'n-hu"cta. 
Then trees along elk two were lying. He thought. ^ 

"Ha," ea'hu"cta. "Xe duhe'no' ne wo'zabi-hino' kona'-kte-bi-heno, " 
''Ha," he said. "This is the place these two pcssibly ( ''> my comrade killed," 



Inside. 

va'-lui"cta. 



268 Anthropological Papers American JM iiseum of Xatural History. [Vol. IV, 

etci"'hu"cta. "Pto"', nui)i'n wintea^-wa-kte'-kte-no," etci"'-hu"cta 
bethought. "Well, both I shall kill," bethought. 

Je'tcen u"in iye' intciya'-hu"cta. Cunka'gan hT'-yanga-hu"cta. 

Then be them chased. On a hor.se he came. 

Tca"den d'hiya-iya'ya ; bije'tcen a"kna' iya'ya. Ga'yetca ha"he'bi 
In the brush be ran; after he followed. Then night 

iya'ya-hu"c'ta. Je'tceii it* ake' pcda' i>;ai'ne-hu"cta. Ga'yetca ie ake' 
came suddenly. Then be again fire made. Then be again 

otce'ti-je \va"ya'ga-lui"cta. Je'tccii en \"icv' i lui"cta. (Ja'yedja 
fireplace saw. Then there he built a fire. Then 

jetci'n-hti"cta, "Xedu'ku inicti"'inin-ktt'-n()," ctci"'-hu"c'ta. Je'tcen 
bethought, "Right here I shall sleep," bethought. Then 

du'djeha" ak'i"'jena ()grknirja-hu"cta. IVen en iya'nga-hu"('ta. 

after a wliile lie misaddled, be wrapped himself up. Then there he lay. 

Ga'yedja i"knti'hana da'gu teawo'ha ii"'nia-liu"cta. 

Then suddenly something in the brush a noise (?) came along, 

r'knu'hana en-hina"'])a-hu"cta. En hl'-hu"eta. (ia'yedja waga'ngana 

Suddenly it appeared. There it came. Then old woman 

je'tca-hu"cta. En tco.si"tc"ia^ naji"'-liu"cta. Ga kocka'-je 

it was. There she warmed herself standing. ? The youth 

jetci"'-hu"cta, "Ha'! Ne'ne e'heno, kona' kte'-heno," etci"'-hu"cta. 

thought, " Ha ! Tliis one, I guess ( ?) my comrade killed," bethought. 

Je'tcen ea'hti"cta, "Mi"-ku"'c je'tcen cosi'^'teia^ yaiiga'-wo; miye' 

Then he said, "My grandmother, thus warm yourself ; I 

mictl'min-kte-no," ea'-hu"cta. "Je'tcen etcu"', mi-ta'goja," edjia'- 

shall sleep," be said. "Thus you can do, grandson," she 

hu'^cta. Je'tcen ko'cka-ne cina'ja djuski'na maxn()'ga-hu"cta. Okna"' 

.said. Then this youth blanket small hole cut. Through it 

aki"'-\vanga'-hu"cta. I"ctT'me gu"'za-hu"cta. Xo'banga-hu"cta. 

watching be lay. To sleep he pretended. He snored. 

Kocka'-ne ga'yetca waga'ngana-ne i"kna'-hana ea'-hu"cta, "Ha'di, 
The youth then the old woman suddenly said, "Rise, 

mi-ta'gu"ja-je, ape'da ni-xpai'yin-kta-tce," edji'anga-liu"cta. Tuka'c 

grandson, the fire-sparks will fall on you," she said repeatedly. But 
koc i"kninge'ce-hu"cta. Je, "Ai"ni'tkun-kta-c mi-ta'goja," edjia'-hu"cta 

be paid no attention. Again, "It will burn you, grandson," she said. 

Tuka'ec piye'c, xo'banga-hu"cta. Gaje'jea'-hu"cta, "Da'gu"cke 

But be did not mind, he snored. She said, "Nothing 

mi^ci'nagatcac, into' tea" ao'pewagl'hin-kta," ea'-hu"cta. 

I mean by what I .say, (but) more trees I am going to have," she said. 

Hinkna wa'paxta'netcac knucka'-hu^cta. Saiiksa'^'djane tceeka'ni-ta 

Then a medicine bag she untied her own. The dress (out from) her breast 
ekna'gu-hu^cta. Hi'iikna tca".sa'ganetc peju'da-ne i'fikpanen ok'5'ya. 
she took her own. Then on the stick the medicine on a point .she rubbed. 



1909.] Loirie, The Assiniboine. 269 

Hi'nkna aba'ha ava'-lni"rta. Ji'as aki'ii-\va'nga-]ui"cta. l-ytunax 

Then she reached over to him. Meanwhile he lay watching. Close 

aba'ha au'jetr i"knu'hana naji"' i.va'ya-liinkiia, nankpa'nen 

she reached, ? suddenly he stood up ? , i)y the wrist 

iyax'pa_va-lui"Vta. "Ha^, minku"'c, da'gti-do'ka nu'n-kta-hc?" 

he seized her. "Yes, grandmother, what are you going to do?" 

ecljia'-hii"cta. "Hi", mi-ta'gu"c," ea'-hucta, "u"inaci'ga-tce, 

he asked. "? grandson," she said, " I am pitiable, 

wanl'^s" ea'-huncta. "Ga ni-ta'kona a'otcc. Ga'ic 

I want to be saved," she said. "There (?) is your friend, that is he. There 
da'gu da'wa jena'ngatce, heha"' ga'ic cu'nga jii'iitcc," ea'-hu"c'ta. 
things his all, ? there dog is," she said. 

Je'tcen na^nkpa'ne yus u"'-hu"cta. Wa'|)axtane yiicke'ne; waji"' 

Then wrist holding he was. Medicine-bag he untied; one (medicine) 

a"'ba-jetc jeha'n waji"' i"gi'snidjetea. Je'ttvn nankpa'en 

day (was for making day), and one could restore life. And Ijy the wrist 
iyu's u"'ne; intgo'm u".s gT'dji-ba'jiba"-hu"cta. Ga'yedja tea" da'nga 
he hekl her; point with her he touched. Then trees big 

waji", iyfi'hana ane'tka d'datc tc'a"'je iyu'han tuxina"'ra ko 
one, all over limbs many trunk whole bees 

oti'bi-hu"cta. Tca"'-je iyu'hagen .sT'dja-hu"cta. Je'tcen koV-ka'no 

nest (she turned into). The tree all ugly. Then the youth 

peju'da waji"' a"'ba-jeV-hii"cta je e^agu'tcen-lui"cta. Xum jio"'s 
metiicine one day-making he took not. The two others 

e'agu-hii"cta. Jetcen tako'na-gu kbajl'ba"-hu"cta. Ake'c ta-cu'ngage (?) 

he took. Then his comrade he touched. Again his horse 

kbajT'ba"-liucta. x\ke'c cu'figa djus'kfnaje kbajT'ba"-hucta. Ake'c 

he touched. Again dog little he touched. .\gain 

toka"' bajr-ba-hii"cta. Ga'yedja wi"tca'cta toka"'-hii"cta, i"xa'.v^ 

a stranger he touched. Then man strange, laughing 

naji'^'-hucta. Je'tce "(hl'kec na'ji"" c<ljia'-hii"cta. Je'tcen i"gi'snije 

he stood. Then "Wait, stand" he said. Then life-medicine 

iyil'han u".s wintca-baji'ba-hu"cta. lyil'haiia gi".sni^-wintca'ya-hu"cta. 

all with he touched them. All he restored to life. 

Je'tcen wintca'giya-hu"cta. Je'tcen cea'-Jni"cta, "dd'kia 

Then he spoke to them. Thus he said, " U'herever, 

iya'-u'-bi-gaV-tac, iyO'hana iyri'minifigfa-kna-ljo," e\vintcagy'ya-hii"cta. 

you come fi'om all go home," he told them. 

Je'tcen a'miningl'a da'gu oya'de-ne do'kia'-ta'-ha" liT'bi-ne, iyfi'ha 

Then they scattered whatever tribes where from they came, all 

kna'bi-hu"cta, waci'dju ko I'yu. Je'tcen ic-nan'ax etce'n a"-'hii"cta. 

they went home, the whites ? also. Then she alone thus was left. 

Je'tcen takona'gu gitci kna'hu"cta. Ga'yedja bebl'a tako'na-gii 

Then his comrade with he went home. And on the way his friend 



270 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\o\. IV. 

ieji'a-]iu"cta. "Kona', hebl'a \va-u"'-tceha"^ waci'dju ti 

thus spoke. "Partner, on the way as I was coming, white man's house 

waji"' en wahi', ga'yedja wi"ko'cka waji"' wacte'tc jin u'. Ga'yedja 

one at I arrived, then girl a jjretty came. Then 

'Kona' tokia' he?' ewa'gia. Ga'yedja 'cya'c niye'c' ema'ngra." 
Comrade where ?' I asked. Then 'it is you yourself,' she told me." 

Je'teen "wo'gikna^ge je'tcen tafiko'na-gu-ne cikna'-hu"cta. (xaVedja 

Then when he told him his comrade was angiy. Then 

jejl'a-hu^eta, "Huiikta' ya'wo, kona', ito' liunkta' ya'-wo" 

he said, "Goon comrade, now goon," 

edjia'-hu"cta. Je'tcen "toga' giha" iya'ya"-liu"cta. (Ja'yetca 

he said. Then "First lead on." Then 

owo'nkna^gi-c au'ta-hu"eta. Ili'fikna i"xpe'akna'-hu"eta. Teen 
he looked back not, he shot him. Then he left him. Then 

waci'dju tl'djen kl'-hu^cta. Teen wi"ko'cka-ne iyu'hana 

white man's home to he came. Then the girl all 

i^wa'^'ra-hu'Y-ta. Je'teen ogi'djiaga'-hu"eta. Ga'yedja, "Ha!" 

he asked. Then she told him. Then "Ha!" 

etci"'-hu"cta. Je'tcen nwa'ndjax i^tko'in' kna'-lui"cta. Tako'na-gu 

he thought. Then when he heard back he went. His friend 

kt'e'-nen kl'-hn^cta. Je'tcen pejn'da-je e'agu-hrfikna, i"gl.s'nije' 
dead there he came to. Then medicine he took, life-medicine 

u"s kbaji'ba-hnncta. Ga'yedja gi".sni'-hn"cta. Tuka' wana' 

with he touched him. Then ho restored him to life. But he felt 

si'djaye, kna'-hu"cta. Je'tcen waci'dju tl'-jen knT'-bi-hu"cta. 

badly, he went home. Then white man's house to tliey came. 

Jeta'ha" i^xpe'a, knidju'-hu"cta. Tl'-da kl'-hu"cta. Iha"'gan 

There he left him, went home. At home he arrived. Later 

u"ma'i' ne'ic aha'geha'n kl'-hu^cta. Ga'yedja atgu'-gu-je 

the other at last came home. Then his father 

je-djra-hu"cta, "Xe'meec nita'-kona ya'akte-liu"cta. Hinkna' 

told him, "I heard your friend you killed. Then 

gisni'iyaVe. Je'tcen niye' djaxta'gu-tcen onea'guc, tukta'ni ina'nec," 
you restored him. Then you have nothing to do here, anywhere go away," 
edjia'-hu"cta atgQ'gu. Je'tcen u^^ma"' tako'na-gu-je icte'ja teen 
said his father. Then the other his partner was ashamed 

tokia'ya\va-hu"cta . 
had already gone away 



ANTiiKoi'. r.w. A. M. N. II. 



VUL. IV, I'LATt: I. 




Woman Wringing a Skin. 
(Page 14) 



Antuuop. Pap. A. M. N. H. 



Vol.. 1\, I'l.MI. II 




AssiNiBoixE Couple. 
(Page 15) 




Dog-Travots. 
(Page 15) 





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ST. AUGUSTINE \o .A. <" 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
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